F- no no no f-word. That's for very horrible circumstances. Who am I kidding? This is a horrible circumstance!!!
Nope. Still don't feel better.
This tiny but extremely important conversation happened while I was squeezing my eyes shut and gripping my bat tighter for fear of seeing this stranger's junk, because he had started to untangle himself from the shower curtain. And obviously he didn't have a towel. I mean I scared the poor guy in the middle of his shower.
I don't know about other people, but I love with a capital "L" my showers. My heart went out to him and his situation for a second. Then I realized where I was and my brain pulled my extremely naive heart right back in.
"Who are you!" I all but yelled at him when I asked him this.
Still coming to his senses, he didn't have time to respond before I launched another verbal attack.
"What do you want?"
"Why am I here?"
"Why are you SHOWERING IN MY HOUSE?"
I was cut off from my rampage by him standing up. And boy was he big. Not that sort of big you dirty-minded psycho. Big as in "tall". Normally, my 5,4" self would not be intimidated by such height ,but my "5,4 self" was currently in a bathroom with a stranger and did not know what the heck was going on or what had happened or what was about to happen.
"First and foremost," he began wrapping the shower curtain around himself in a very calm manner like it was an everyday occurrence to wrap shower curtains around oneself. "My name is Zack."
Zack. Zack. Zack. Who the heck was Zack?
I wracked my brain for a "Zack" but none came to mind. A confused expression spread across my face. "Uh. Who?"
"You know Zack Trevani? From the club? Last night?" My blank look must finally have clicked, "Do you even remember anything from last night?"
I tried, I really did. I even closed my eyes and squeezed them really tight trying to remember a single detail. "Nope, nothing."
"So you don't remember anything?" His face was guarded, almost hopeful.
"Good." He began to walk towards me and before I could blink he had steered me around and out of the bathroom with a,"I need to get dressed we'll talk after; there is breakfast on the bar."
I turned around to protest, but was greeted with a slamming door.
A tiny bit peeved, I whirled around and walked over to the bed. I sat down taking deep breaths because I was out of breath and my head was pounding. What in the heck was going on? I am excellently physically fit because of soccer and I haven't had a headache a day in my life. I knew one thing, though.
I was hungry, and there was bacon, orange juice, and some tasty-smelling muffins on the bar in the corner.
If there was one thing I could do that was eat(a lot), and strange boy or no, that a what I am going to do.
YOU ARE READING
Hating HockeyTeen Fiction
One night stand-Meeting somebody, hooking up, and leaving. Done. That's what Laney thought when she had one. Likewise Zack thought that too. A hockey player on the brink of superstardom. And she, a normal soccer-playing high school student. Why do t...