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Here's another chapter because Chapter 8 isn't satisfying enough 😂❤️

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Isaac POV


I shove my wallet into my pocket, digging through the junk on the counter to find my keys. I know they're in here somewhere, just hidden beneath the empty cereal boxes and unopened mail. This place couldn't get more disgusting if we tried. Dirty dishes are piling up in the sink and there's a rotten loaf of bed just sitting on the counter. We haven't taken the garbage out in days. And I'm not about to do it now. I've got places to be.

My PO doesn't really give a shit, though. As long as I show up to my appointment, it doesn't matter if I'm 2 or 20 minutes late. That's the thing about parole officers—they're either total tight asses, or they quote South Park and live off uncooked ramen noodles.

Mine is the latter.

"Fucking hell," I grumble, pulling my keys out from under Leah's backpack.

I don't take my car out enough. I haven't touched it all week. Campus is just down the road and I haven't been into town in forever. I'm too high to drive anyway. I used to take pride in my ability to drive while stoned, but I'm actually trying to avoid prison this time around. At least for the time being.

I take a quick moment to light a cigarette before I step out of the apartment. I can't arrive there smelling like weed. I already showered, but smoke will cover up any lingering scents.

I've been through this plenty of times before. I know all the tricks.

I walk out into the hallway, making sure to lock the door behind me. There are too many people out to get me, the least I can do is make it a little harder for them.

Just as I turn to head on out, the door beside me opens. Ivory Ferrari joins me in the hallway, a disgruntled look on her face. Her frown only deepens when she glances up at me. I just take a long drag of my cigarette, ignoring her glare.

I'm not ignoring her, though. I'm more than aware of her presence. She oozes arrogance like blood out of a bullet wound.

That's a good line for a song. Maybe a little tacky, but I can make it work. I'll have to remember it for later.

She trails a few steps behind me, both of us heading out of the building. I expect her to stop at the elevators but instead, she follows me into the stairwell. We only live two floors up so it's not a big hike, but I definitely pick her as someone to take the easy way out.

"You shouldn't smoke in here, you know?"

For a second I'm surprised to hear her voice. But I'm not surprised by what she says. It's not like I don't know I shouldn't smoke in here. I shouldn't smoke inside at all, but I'm not walking all the way outside every time I want a cig.

She doesn't say anything else until we make it to the ground floor. There nothing here but a small reception desk and a janitor's closet. I'm just about to step outside when I hear her voice again.

"Hey..." she hesitates. "Uhm... Would you mind turning your music down a little? The walls are pretty thin."

I let out an amused laugh. The only reason my music is loud is to drown out the unbearable sound of hers.

"I'll think about it," I state.

"Also, uh... the smell of weed is pretty strong sometimes, and I–."

"What are you going to do... call the cops?" I snicker. She better fucking not. Her roommate sure as shit wouldn't appreciate that.

"No, no, I just wanted to warn you, in case... you know, someone else does."

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