Here to Misbehave | S.R.

Ch. 10 | The Frat

Summary: Reader challenges Spencer to come find her at one of the frat houses

Content Warning: Adults w/ age difference (10yrs), drug use (marijuana and alcohol), heated arguing

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I'm not going to think about Spencer tonight.

That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. I was a fucking liar though, so, whatever.

"Hey! (Y/N!) Get off your phone and come take a picture with us!"

With a sigh I set my phone down on the table, waltzing over to my friends with that faux confidence a girl wears the first few times she goes out after getting dumped.

I could still call it that, right?

Fuck! I was still thinking about him.

This is exactly why my friends made me go out with them this weekend. It had been over a month since that night and I was still wallowing in my apartment with that stupid fucking Caltech sweatshirt. At least I had left that behind this time.

I was an hour away from home on one of the biggest Greek nights of the year. I was going to find something, anything to distract me from Spencer tonight.

So why was I still thinking about him?

At least the edible I took is starting to kick in, because I am able to look at least halfway excited in each of the pictures, albeit just a little bit fucked up.

Wouldn't he be mad about that? I bet he would.

Shit! Okay. This isn't working. Might as well lean into it.

Picking up my phone from its resting spot, I immediately pulled up mine and Spencer's text history. I just needed to make sure it had actually been over a month.

"Please come see me if you can." That was the last message I had sent him. He read it almost immediately but never replied. Figures.

The rest of the history was filled with silly emojis (all from me), with his responses short and usually just consisting of "Just got home."

What I wouldn't give for one of those messages now. I used to get so worried about him when he was gone. Well, I still do. It just never goes away now. I shouldn't worry about him, though, right? Does he worry about me?

"Girl, do not text him right now. Are you serious?"

Busted. I whined, scrolling down to the bottom of the chat and holding it up for her to see.

"But look at the last message he sent me. It literally just says 'I miss you.' Tell me I'm crazy for thinking he might still apologize."

After all, if he was checking the chat, he'd see that too, right? Assuming he hadn't deleted it immediately, which he probably had. But I wasn't entirely sure. He could be somewhat of a romantic, after all.

"Oh, shit, well. You might be right actually. He's typing right now."

"What?!" I screeched, pulling my phone back with way too much excitement, watching the bubbles floating just for a second before disappearing again.

Oh hell no! Spit it out right now, you fucking bastard!

The bubbles popped up again and suddenly everyone was around me, waiting with bated breath to see if a message would follow through. After a few minutes, though, the dots disappeared.

They didn't come back this time.

My blood was boiling. He didn't get to play with me like this. If he wanted to talk to me, then I was getting my apology.