When I woke up a few hours later, I had to bring my hand up to my eyes in attempt to make it so the bright sun rays wouldn't temporarily blind me. And it worked for a while, but then I remembered that there was a sleeping bad-boy on my floor and that my parents could walk in at any moment—thus getting us both in trouble, and I wasn't really in the mood to get yelled at. I'm sure Haydn wouldn't mind; he'd probably yell back, but that's a confrontation that is best left avoided.
Throwing the blanket off of my body, I looked down at the floor—sitting up way too fast and making myself light headed—and noticed that the blankets, the pillow, and the boywere nowhere in sight. For a while, I just stared at the floor in awe, but quickly shook it off and walked over to the closet where I got the blanket. I expected it to just be lazily thrown in there, showing me that Haydn washere last night and that I'm not going crazy, but when I opened the door, it was right where I got it last night. Not a single thing in the room was out of place; it was as if last night never happened! 'Have I finally turned into one of those girls who dreams about Haydn sneaking into my room? Have I really lost all of my common sense?'
Narrowing my eyes , I threw on a pair of lounge pants and walked downstairs; the smell of eggs and bacon attracting my senses and driving them wild. I hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and that was around nine. Sadly, due to unmentionable circumstances, I hadn't fallen asleep until almost two a.m.
Trying my hardest not to think about it, I continued my walk into the kitchen and felt my mouth begin to water at the smell of the food that I was about to attack with no remorse. “Ah, look who's decided to join us this morning.” Smiling at the sound of my mothers voice, I sat down next to her; giving my dad quick kiss on the cheek. For some reason, my mom had given me a once over and I almost panicked, thinking Haydn had left some kind of mark on me, and that made my hand instinctively go up to my neck. That of course made her raise a brow. “What time did you go to sleep? You have bags under your eyes.”
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I shrugged, looked at the clock on the microwave and groaned when I saw it was already seven o'clock. Any less than eight hours of sleep and I'd be one irritable person. I only had five; are you getting the picture I'm painting? “Around two, I think. There was,” I stopped for a second to choose my words correctly, “a lot of distractions.”
“Oh?” My dad cut in. “Distractions like?”
Staring down at my hands, I shrugged. It's not like I could just openly say: Oh you know, a hot guy broke into my room and kept me up for almost two hours. I would have introduced him to you yesterday, but it was one in the morning, he was high and I don't think he'd want to. Oh, and did I mention that there's no physical proof that he was ever here? I figured I'd let you know that, too.
If I told them that, not only would they put bars on my window to keep anyone from getting in—and me getting out if I ever felt rebellious enough to do that—but they'd think I was crazy! It may not seem like a big deal, but that's not necessarily something I wanted to have to deal with.
So, I went with a simple answer. “I just couldn't sleep.”
“Well, we can't have you going out today with imperfections, now can we?” Pinching my cheek in a belittling manner, my mother excused herself from the table and went to go get her Bag o' Magic. It wasn't anything like 'Pick a card, any card' magic, but like, 'I can make you go from thisto thisin a matter of seconds if you give me a chance' magic. She was a beautician; it was in her nature to try and make me look 'perfect', though I could go without all the extra attention.
I looked away from my hands and up at my father who had a sympathetic look on his face. “You know your mother is just looking out for you-”
“-yes, dad, I know that 'making me look my most fabulous at all times' is looking out for me.”
Both of us laughed at my horrible imitation of my mom and dug into the food that had been placed in front of us. We had a few good minutes of silence before he brought up something that caught me almost completely off guard. “So, I heard you talking to someone yesterday. Is there anything that I should be concerned about?”
Resisting the urge to grow wide eyed, I bit my bottom lip and averted my eyes; looking at anything but him. “No, not at all.” It's not like I'm surprised he suspected something with all the yelling that had been going on last night, but I didn't expect him to confront me about it so early on. Maybe if I acted like nothing happened, he'd just drop it.
“Well, I heard you talking to someone and-”
“-you might have just heard the TV.” I interrupted, trying to buy myself some time, “You know I watch a lot of it.”
Laughing to himself, he shook his head and continued eating. “I know what I heard, and it wasn't the TV. Do you have a boyfriend?” When I didn't answer, he sighed. “Adriana-”
“-Dad, don't. You already know I don't date after what happened the last time.” Shuddering at the thought of it, I shook my head and tried to ignore the images that were coming back to me. What happened in my past relationships had nothing to do with what was going on now.
“Adriana, I know that what happened with your ex was bad, but-”
“-no buts! I have nothing else to say about this.” Sliding my chair back, I placed my dirty plate in the sink and walked back up to my room. It was rude to talk to my dad in such a way, I know that, but it's not the conversation I wanted to have. He knew I didn't date, and I had no intention to change that. Especiallynot with Haydn. Me and boys just don't really work out. They're about sleeping with girls, drinking and smoking until their bodies can't take it, and then doing it again the next day. Me? I'm just an awkward person who keeps to herself and her two best friends. Nothing about me screams 'Good For Boys.'
Once I was back in my room, I walked over to my bed and noticed that the pillow I gave to Haydn last night was now on the foot of my bed—not where I had left it last night. Hesitant at first, I walked over to it and brought it up to my face; sniffing it for a quick second and catching the scent of Ralph Loren's Polo cologne. I didn't wear it, and as far as I'm concerned, neither did my father.
'I know I'm not crazy; it has to be him!'
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“So, he just broke in? Without a reason?” Nodding in the direction of my best friend, Cassandra Lovat, I took a bite of my burger and watched as her facial expression changed from curious to surprised. “I don't see you as his type. Like, no offense, you're gorgeous and everything, but he normally goes for the easy girls.”
I shrugged. “That's the first thing he said to me. 'Why can't you just be easy like the rest of the girls I go after?'” My imitation of his voice was horrible, but it could have been much worse, but by the laughter that erupted from Cassie's mouth, I guess she understood the point I was trying to get across. “It kind of caught me off guard when I woke up and he wasn't there. It was like he disappeared because he did a pretty good job at covering his tracks.”
Not meeting my eyes, she shrugged. “Maybe you just dreamed the whole thing.”
Letting my mouth fall open, I slammed my burger down onto the tray and narrowed my eyes. “There's no way in hell I imagined the entire night. My pillow even smelled like him!”
“That's not something I would shout in a McDonald’s, Adri...”
This was the only problem with telling her things like this. After everything that happened two years ago, she just assumes that I make everything up when it has to do with guys, and it annoys me. Sure, I went through a phase where everything seemed like it was something it wasn't, but two years have gone by since the incident with my ex; you'd think she'd be over it already. “Whatever...”
We sat in silence for a while, and I used that time to collect my thoughts. I hadn't told anyone except Cassandra what happened last night between Haydn and I, but now I'm starting to regret saying anything at all. She now thinks I'm some fan girl who can't stop thinking of Haydn and all the hot make outs we'd have if we dated; how I'd become weak kneed and just fall into his arms as he sank his fangs into my pulsating neck- 'Ohmigod, what the hell is wrong with me?!'
Shaking my head for what seemed like the hundredth time today, I took a sip of my Dr. Pepper and looked up at Cassandra, who was staring at something across the restaurant. When I turned around and saw what she was looking at, I saw a pair of gold eyes staring at me with a hint of curiosity and humor. 'He clearly knows something he's not telling me... He was there last night; I'm sure of it.'
“There goes your boy right there, Adri. Go ask him if he remembers your night of hot passion!”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I stood up from my chair and walked over to him. I hadn't noticed before, but he had at least three other guys with him, who were all staring at me with the same look in their eyes. 'Don't get intimidated, Adri, they're just guys.' Once I finally reached the table, I took a deep breath and looked Haydn right in the eyes. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
All of his friends made a few cat calls, but the only reaction that mattered to me was the one I got from Haydn. Not because I cared about what he had to say, but because I needed to know that I wasn't hallucinating and that last night didhappen. Yes, it made me sound weird obsessing over something that anyone else would have just brushed off, but I had to know! “What about—if I may ask?”
'He's mocking me.'“Nothing of dire importance, but I still need to talk to you.”
Grinning, he shrugged and took a sip of his soda. All of his friends were staring at me with amused, lustful looks, but I ignored them and focused on the guy who broke into my room like it was no big deal. It wasn't so much that I wanted to know he was actually there, but I needed to know that I wasn't imagining things—and that I wasn't crazy. There's a lot of things I can handle; having people think I'm crazy isn't one of them.
“Dude, she probably just wants to get it in.” All of his friends joined him in laughter, and as annoyed as I was, I wasn't going to walk away. “Go with her; it's so obvious that she wants the D.” And then they all cheered, causing about twenty curious heads to look in our direction. I wasn't going to let it embarrass me though; I neededanswers.
We made eye contact for a second and he grinned. “Whatever you want, Adri. Lets go.” Standing up, he walked in the direction of the exit and I quietly followed. Once the door was shut and I was sure no one could hear us, I took a breath and looked up at him. From what I could tell, his eyes weren't red anymore, and he seemed a lot more focused. 'At least he's not high this time around... I could only imagine how much worse this would be if he was.'
“So,” he said, breaking me from my thoughts, “what is the reason you brought me outside into the cold?”
“Um... I just needed to talk to you about something.”
“And what would that 'something' be?”
Something... I don't know how to word this! How the hell did I just approach him without so much as a game plan? If I don't start talking now, he's going to lock me in a castle and some random Italian plumber is going to have to save me after eight long, over the top worlds. Then his brother in a green hat is going to join in and-!Damn it, stay focused!“Why did you break into my room yesterday?”
Raising a brow, he leaned against the glass door and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”
“You... Broke into my room last night trying to get away from the cops—and you were high. Then you said something about your friends saying your name too much and getting you in trouble and-”
“-what kind of bullshit are you on, Adri? I haven't been in your room, let alone near your house.” Bringing his hand up to my forehead as if in attempt to see if I had a fever, or if I was sick in any type of way, he shook his head; still grinning. “I see you've been fantasizing about me though, and since you're so cute, I guess I'll let it slide-”
“-I'm not fantasizing about you! You were in my room last night!” I guess I shouldn't have said that so loudly. A few passerby's gave me a dirty look, which I ignored, and continued with the argument I knew I wasn't going to win. It bothered me that he was playing this off so well, but what could I do to make it seem like I wasn't making this up? “There's proof.”
This seemed to catch him attention because he uncrossed his arms and glared at me. “What proof?”
Thinking back to the room this morning, I remembered that the only proof I had that he was there was the smell of Polo cologne on my pillow, and that was pretty much it. So, that being the case, the only way to prove he was there was to compare the two smells. 'There's no way in hell I'm going to just go up to him and smell him! He probably already thinks I'm weird—not that it matters what he thinks.'I sighed, and shook my head. “Never mind.” Walking in the direction of the entrance, I was about to say something else when my shoe lace got stuck under my other foot and I went head first for the door. I expected to feel a world of pain, but someone grabbed my and pulled me into their chest. Deciding that it was now or never, I inhaled the scent of whoever was holding me and frowned. It wasn't Polo.
“You really need to watch where you're walking. The last thing I need on my record is murder.”
Looking up at Haydn, I furrowed my brows. “So, you're still going to deny breaking in?”
“There's nothing to deny; I wasn't there.”
With a quick nod, I pulled away and walked back inside.
He broke into my room—high, nonetheless—and he's now denying ever being there. I didn't want to be like every other Haydn-obsessed girl in the school, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was actually there or not. I'm not crazy though, and no matter how much it bothered me, I wasn't going to think about it. Haydn wasn't in my room last night, and I wasn't going to waste my time proving that he was.
No matter how sexy he was, or how exciting it might have been. . .