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A pain-filled moan fills the air, waking me up. My eyelids feel so heavy. Everything hurts. Another moan sounds and my forehead wrinkles. Who the fuck is making noise so early in the fucking morning. Using one arm, I twist onto my side, hearing that noise again.
Wait, fuck, that's me.
I want to cry but I'd probably vomit and nobody wants that. Exhausted from flipping onto my side, I delicately rest my head back on my pillow.
Startling myself awake mid-snore, I crack open one eye, my vision straightening out as Wren's face comes into view.
"You look like shit." She's sitting on my desk chair, dressed for the day in cute baby-pink pants and a white blouse.
My head dips lightly. "Sounds about right." I'm almost out of breath once I sit up, leaning against the wall my bed is pressed against. There's a disgusting taste in my mouth, one that tells me exactly how last night went. I cringe. "How bad?"
She rests her hands in her lap, crossing one leg over the other. "I took the liberty of burning your clothes from last night."
A heavy sigh escapes. Fuck.
Eyebrows furrowed, I tilt my head to the side. "Where did you burn them, exactly?" I ask staggeringly slow.
Wren shrugs, fingers drumming against her thigh. "In the backyard, I'm not stupid enough to do it where there are fire alarms present," she answers, her lips twitching but her face remains blank.
I nod once. "Fair enough."
She shifts in her seat, leaning over to my nightstand and passing me a glass of water and two pills. I wordlessly swallow them and gulp the water. "You're a bitch." I nearly spit my drink out. Water lodges in my throat and I start coughing violently. "You could have taken me with you last night."
Wheezing through the next coughs, I rasp, "You're sixteen." Tears of exertion prick the corners of my eyes as my chest settles.
"I wouldn't have had anything to drink, I could have driven you home," she continues, ignoring my near-death experience.
I wave a dismissive hand. "It's not a big deal, Wren. I can handle my liquor."
Her hard gaze slides over my face, scrutinizing every inch of me without showing a lick of what she's thinking. "Clearly you can't."
I fall back onto the bed and press my palms into my eye sockets. "I didn't sign up to be lectured by my little sister." I peek at her through my fingers. "There is nothing to worry about, okay? Yesterday was shitty."
Wren shifts in her seat. "You don't think I know that? You try so hard to make me happy when you're not thinking about yourself, I can see how badly it affects you, Perrie." She blinks a few times. "It's a lot easier for me to process disappointment because of how I am but I know it's different for you. You feel."
I scoff, getting to my feet. "I wish I was more like you," I mutter, wincing as I straighten my spine.
"You don't mean that," she says, standing up. She walks to the door and pulls the handle. "Get dressed, your jock boyfriend is downstairs making breakfast."
My fingers freeze in my hair. "He's what?"
She ignores my frantic question. "Your breath smells like ass. Brush your teeth."
I bare my teeth at her. "Bitch."
She snorts, the corner of her lip almost curling into a smile. "Original," she mocks, slamming the door behind her. I cry out, covering my ears. I swear if she could laugh, she'd be dying from it right now.
With sluggish movements, I shower and change into fresh pajamas, brushing my teeth twice just in case. Feeling more refreshed after showering, it's easier to maneuver without the constant chaos raging through my head in the form of a severe hangover. Right now, it's a dull yet present throb behind my eyes.
Wren is washing dishes at the sink with a pair of pink rubber gloves. Surprise and concern wear through me at the sight knowing how she can react to touching other people's dirty plates. That is a nightmare I'd rather not relive but she seems stoic, her lips pressed together and she's standing as far as she can from the sink without getting water on her clothes or the floor. It's impressive.
The most alarming thing in the room though, is Gianna. She is standing to the side of Levi, watching him cook with wide eyes. Her gaze catches mine and for once she doesn't laugh at my hungover state. "Oh look at that, you survived the stairs without crying this time," she mockingly pouts as she speaks.
Bitch. I glare. "I only cried last time because someone tripped me and I hit my head on the banister, while hungover, Satan," I hiss. She shrugs, turning back to face the stove where Levi is cooking.
Levi turns the heat down and moves the pan to another burner. He faces me, a concerned smile on his face. Opening his arms silently, I shuffle forward, letting him wrap me up in a hug. His fingers trail down my back, resting at the bottom of my spine as he pulls me closer. My head rests on his chest and I breathe in his scent, letting the citrus notes fill my senses.
"Thank you, for picking me up last night," I mumble into his shirt, running an absentminded hand over the ridges of his abdominal muscles.
Brushing the hair over my shoulder he lifts my face to his, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Anytime you need me, babe, I'll be there."
Something stabs the back of my throat but I manage to choke out a quiet, "Thank you."
"Hungry?" He asks, reaching an arm back and turning the heat back up, placing the pan where it originally was all while keeping an arm around me.
Gianna steps away from the stove. "Ugh, you two make me want to throw myself off a building." I laugh while Levi twists his head in concern.
Wren raises an eyebrow. "I can help you with that." Gianna glares.
Once breakfast is served, the four of us sit comfortably around the large dining room and quietly stuff our faces with the egg white omelets with every vegetable Levi could find and some diced ham.
Playing with my food, I stab my fork into a loose spinach leaf. "So, are you spending Thanksgiving alone?" I ask Gianna, dragging out the question, unsure of why she would be home alone today.
Gianna delicately wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Nope, I'm just waiting until the last possible second to see my family, they're annoying as fuck."
Relatable. Wren catches my eye, dipping her chin in agreement.
I shift in my seat. "Is it okay if Wren and I stay here for the day? I promise not to burn the house down," I add with a sweet smile.
Levi hums for a second, chewing his food quickly. "Actually, I told my mom about what happened and she said you and Wren are more than welcome to join us for dinner," he says, dabbing his mouth with the napkin.
I rest a hand on his thigh under the table. "I don't want to interfere with family time," I say softly, a guilty pit forming in my stomach. I don't want to intrude on other people's perfect lives.
He waves a dismissive hand. "It's just my parents and me, not much to interfere with." He leans closer to my face, resting his forehead against the top of my head. "Come on, it'll be fun."
Turning to face him, my eyes catch his. "They won't mind Wren? She can be a lot for people the first time they interact with her," I talk in the softest whisper, hoping my sister doesn't hear me.
Shaking his head, he squeezes a hand. "My parents had to deal with me on a daily basis their whole lives and they deal with Nico regularly, Wren would be a piece of cake for them." The way he says it so easily as if life is that simple for Wren. God, I wish.
But I know that I can reign her in, and she'll be around me the whole night. With a tentative smile, I glance at Wren and watch her scrape her food to each side of the plate, completely dissecting her omelet with the egg and ham on one side and the vegetables on the other.
I nod. "Okay, as long as they don't mind," I reiterate.
His thumb gently rubs circles over my bicep. "You sure you're up for it? Your hangover won't hurt too bad?"
Giving him a devious smile, I turn back to my plate. "Oh please, give me a pack of Sour Patch Kids and I'll be good to go in twenty minutes or less." He chuckles, squeezing my knee before turning back to the table. "Tonight will be fun."
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It was not fun.
The second we step foot in the Saints household his mother is practically begging me to throw something at her. She hasn't stopped calling me Peregrine, no matter how often Levi or I correct her.
Not having much time to bake or cook anything, not that I can do either of those things, I opted to bring them a bottle of wine and a storebought cute little Thanksgiving cake. Mrs. Saints eyed the wine bottle as if it'd explode and placed the cake in the fridge in the garage, profusely thanking us for being so thoughtful.
Levi's father's barely spoken a word since we got here. He nodded at me, shook Wren's outstretched hand, and returned to watching football.
One thing I did notice from their moderately sized family home, Levi's father used to play football in college. There's a shrine dedicated to the two of them which I found sweet when I first walked in. Now the glare of the trophies against the living room light shines across the open-concept space.
"So, Peregrine," Levi's mother begins, gracefully slicing through her piece of turkey, "what is your major?" she asks with an excited smile.
I finish chewing the stuffing in my mouth before speaking. "Marketing, nothing interesting."
Mrs. Saints shakes her head. "Nonsense, marketing is a perfectly suitable major to focus on if you have no other aspirations, are you wanting to focus on a specific field of marketing once you graduate?"
Wren's face casually turns to mine but I'm too busy gritting my teeth while smiling, trying hard not to break my molars. "Honestly I have no idea what I want to do once I graduate college, there's still so much living and learning I need to do now before I can focus on the future."
Her smile is sharp. "That sounds so...free-spirited." She picks up the cranberry sauce and gently pours it over her turkey. "Levi has Olympic training starting in the spring, he'll be competing in the Olympic trials right after he graduates."
Dipping my head in acknowledgment, a genuine smile appears on my face. "It's so exciting," I say, winking at Levi when his cheeks turn red, "You must be so proud of him," I implore the both of them.
"Absolutely, he's worked towards this his entire life, he's always known who he wanted to be in the future. We're so lucky our occupations give us the ability to work remotely while we moved around the state for Levi's swimming career," she answers, her tone holding a sense of defiance in it. "What do your parents do?"
Wren's barely spoken two words since we walked into their home. I don't know if that's because of the talk we had about what to expect from Mr. and Mrs. Saints or if she's just uncomfortable around strangers.
Giving her a close-lipped smile, I shrug before answering. "My mother doesn't work, she and my stepdad decided she needed to focus on our half-sister especially since she's pregnant with our half-brother," I answer, that gross feeling from this morning appearing in my stomach again, "And my father owns a car dealership in Arizona."
Mrs. Saints nods along politely. "How exciting for your mother, being pregnant is such a beautiful experience," she gushes, glancing over at Levi's father. "Well, you two must be thrilled to have a little brother!"
"Our mother wants to name him Finch," I offer up, unable to answer her question.
Levi grins at me. "Like the bird?"
I widen my eyes. "Woah, no way, I didn't even make that connection. You're so smart," I say sarcastically with a teasing smile. He winks. I blush.
"Now Levi," his mother interrupts our moment, turning her attention to him, "yesterday," she pauses, monitoring his face as it slowly morphs into one of unease, "explain what happened there."
For a second I think she's talking about me but she already doesn't like me, there's no way Levi would mention yesterday. His father continues eating but keeps an eye on their interaction.
Levi shuffles in his seat. Oh God, what did he do? "I had a personal emergency," he states, raising his chin.
His mother offers a flat stare in return. "A personal emergency?" she asks curiously. "Strange how you didn't call your father or me with this personal emergency." Her gaze flickers to me for less than a second before focusing back on her son.
Oh fuck, no he didn't.
"Mom, it was one practice, Coach shouldn't have even called you—."
His mother sits up straight in her seat, regardless that both men on either side tower over her frame. "We pay for those private coaching lessons, not you," she snaps. Wren stares down at her plate. "So, yes I'm glad your coach called because otherwise, we wouldn't have known that our son decided to throw away our money on a personal emergency."
"This is your future son, this isn't child's play, you want to be in the Olympics, you don't miss the practices that will get you there," his father chimes in, "we've been informed multiple times how you're starting to show up a few minutes late to practices and we've let it slide but skipping the whole practice without informing us? That's not okay."
Levi rubs a hand over his face, the tips of his ears red from embarrassment. I wish I could lean over and hold his hand but God knows his mother would give me another look. "I know I'm sorry, I won't do it again but—."
I clear my throat. "It's my fault," I blurt out, not wanting his parents to keep admonishing him like a child. He missed one practice, he's not going to die from it. "I was stranded somewhere and asked him to pick me up," I lie, fiddling with my fingers under the table.
"Peeps—," Levi tries to interject but I hold up a hand, giving him a grim smile.
Looking back at his parents, I continue, "It was my fault, I'm sorry he missed his practice but I won't let it happen again."
His parents are silent. Mrs. Saints jaw looked like it's been wired shut from how taut it is and his father is just sitting there, staring into my soul. His mother clears her throat, slipping into a gentle smile. "Thank you Peregrine, for owning up to your faults, we appreciate your honesty." I nod, preparing to turn back to my meal when she starts speaking again. "And I'm so glad that you finally understand how important Levi's practices are, something as simple as one lap could make all the difference in the world when it came down to being in the Olympics and being an ordinary swimmer. So thank you."
Definitely felt some underlying threats in that speech but whatever, I can live with her being mad at me for the rest of my life as long as she keeps Levi out of it.
I go to open my mouth but a tamed shriek fills the air when a glob of cranberry sauce lands on Wren's white blouse. She frantically pushes away from the table and stands, staring down at the mess on her shirt with wide, scared eyes.
Shoving to my feet, I move to stand in front of her. "Hey, it's okay," I whisper, picking up a napkin and catching the glob before it ruins more of her shirt. "It's okay," I shush her gently, rubbing her arms.
She pushes away from me, walking in a circle once before staring down at her shirt. "No, no, no, no," she moans, her breathing hitching up a notch. Her hands are curled into claws at her shoulders as if she wants to grab the shirt but can't get past the mess created.
Angry tears fill her eyes and I try to dab at the scarlet stain but she won't let me touch her.
Levi's at my side in a second. "Wren, are you okay?"
She bares her teeth, heaving through her gritted teeth. "It's ruined. My shirt is ruined."
I stretch out my hands towards her. "We'll wash it out when we get back, okay?"
"It'll be too late, are you stupid?" she demands, unable to tear her eyes from her shirt.
"Honey, there is nothing my famous stain remover won't fix," Mrs. Saints says, walking around me to assess said stain. She taps her chin lightly. "Now, let's take you to the laundry room and get rid of that cranberry sauce, shall we?"
Mrs. Saints leads us to the laundry. Wren is stiff the whole time. Her shoulders are tense and she hasn't dropped her hands back to her sides yet. I can only imagine the things Levi's family must be thinking. All over a stain?
His mother hands Wren a plain white shirt and holds out her hand for the blouse. Unwilling to do it on her own, I help Wren remove her shirt, keeping the stain far away from her face, and hand it over to Mrs. Saints.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Saints," I say gratefully, running my hands over my pants. Wren silently nods her thanks.
"Don't worry about it, stains can be so temperamental, better to handle it now before it sticks to the fibers by the time you get home," she informs us, leaving the blouse to hang over the sink. "Now, we just let it soak for fifteen minutes and wash it by hand, should be good as new," she says with a gentle, soothing smile directed at Wren as she leaves us alone for a moment.
Once she's gone, I place my hands on either side of Wren's face, feeling the flushed skin beneath my fingers. "Are you okay?"
She nods, swallowing a lump in her throat.
I purse my lips. "Do you need to be alone for a minute?" I ask.
She nods again, playing with the hem of her borrowed shirt.
"Okay," I say simply, "I'll be at the table if you need me." I press a kiss on her forehead before making my way back.
"Look, I'm glad you're having that fun college experience that everyone talks about in those movies but playtime is over Levi," his mother's voice causes me to freeze in the hallway. "You are starting to embarrass yourself now."
My eyebrows furrow. I'm embarrassing? She shows up at his house whenever she feels like it and essentially controls his entire life and I'm the one embarrassing him?
"Why would I have any reason to be embarrassed? I'm happy mom, isn't that all that matters?" Levi asks frustration and pleading notes in his tone.
His mother scoffs. "She is only bringing you down," she hisses, "since you started spending time together, how many practices have you been late for? How many times was she the reason you were late?" He remains silent. "Levi, Honey, I don't care who you fuck, but we agreed that you keep your focus on swimming. That is your number one priority and do not let some girl take that from you."
"She's not some girl, Mom—."
"She's lovely, really Levi, she is. But she has nothing going for her. She's getting a marketing degree for Christ's sake, and she's hardly enthusiastic about it by the sounds of things," she argues. "Do you really want someone who doesn't care about their own goals in your life? You need someone as driven as you and Peregrine is not that someone."
A chair scrapes across the floor. I press myself into the wall. "I don't care what degree she's getting, her education doesn't define her and I like her mom, like really like her." It's quiet for a few moments, the only sound from the room is their breathing. "She's the best part of my day."
"And that's my problem," his mother counters, no doubt folding her arms across her chest. "Swimming used to be the best part of your day and now, what? It's sitting on the back burner? What, do you not want to go to the Olympics anymore? If you don't, that's fine, your father and I will pull your lessons right now—."
"Don't be ridiculous Mom, my future plans haven't changed because of a girl," he comments, sounding frustrated. "Just give me a chance to be happy. I can swim and date at the same time."
"Of course, you can, Darling, I'm not denying that fact. You're an adult," she reassures, "I'm only asking if you can handle both at the same time because right now, from our vantage point, you can't."
Heeled shoes smack aginst the hardwood floor and I turn to see Wren making her way toward me, a confused frown on her face. "You okay?"
The voices in the dining room hush and the sounds of forks and knives clanking against plates fill the air instead. Levi smiles up at us as we walk back into the dining room. Both his parents are absorbed in their own little conversation.
I nod. "Yeah, fine."
|| ✨ ||
I promise the next chapter will be a fun one xx
I think it's interesting how a lot of these characters that aren't friends with Perrie decide her worth after a few conversations. Quite interesting in my opinion.
And honestly, I don't have a lot of these moments planned. I know I need to get from Point A to B but the in-between is a mystery for me so a lot of these conversations and actions/reactions are completely unplanned until I physically write them down.
Until next time,
Sammipott xx