|WATTYS 2021 Shortlisted| ❝Teach me.❞ ❝Teach you what?❞ ❝Teach me how to be a bad boy.❞
Elias Rodriguez has a crush on a certain cheerleader (since forever), but she has a thing for bad boys, not chemistry nerds. Lucky for him, the cheerleader's bes...
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Chapter thirty-one | Losing It
"See you later, dude!" I heard a voice call out behind me as I waved off.
My mind was a fuzzy mess as I lightly stumbled on the front steps.
I rapidly blinked towards the doorknob, waiting for it to turn one instead of two. As that happened, a sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned back.
I patted my jacket, looking for the house key, but my search was fruitless.
I could search for the spare we had hidden somewhere in the plants, but my fuzzy brain couldn't recall exactly where it was.
With a groan, I leaned my head against the front door, contemplating ringing the doorbell. Deciding against it, I pushed away from the door.
Hearing dad grumbling at the moment wasn't worth it.
The force I put into the push was more than expected, making me stumble back. Barely catching myself from face planting in the dirt, my eyes glazed with the sudden movement.
The drinks in my stomach churned, threatening to pour out.
"No puking, Elias," I chatted to myself. "No puking."
I twisted on my steps and made my way towards the girl next door. An unceremonious snicker escaped my lips at the thought.
Girl next door. Talk about being cliche.
I took out my phone, which I could somehow retain and dialed Cynthia's number. As the dialer tune rang, I blinked my eyes to get used to the screen's glare.
"Hello?" I heard Cynthia's husky voice speak from the phone.
"Eli?" she asked, sounding concerned as I took my damn time to appreciate her voice.
"You home?" I asked, leaning against her front door.
"Are you drunk, Eli?" Cynthia's voice was still sleep ridden, but she was able to recognize the slur of my words.
"Yup." I popped my p, just the way they described in those teen novels.
Even if a sober me would never admit it, I was taking tips from some famous teen novel. After all, they described the bad boys in detail.
"I am in front of your door," I continued as silence ensued from the other side.
I waited for a second, but the static quite remained. "Hello? Cynthia, you awake? Are you sleeping? Wakey-wakey."
A pout formed on my lips, but that expression was soon replaced by shock as the door flew open.
"Gosh! You are drunk off your ass!" Cynthia exclaimed, rushing to my side.
