Chapter 2

As if his words had powers of their own. I became worn out immediately and I didn't know when I buried my face in his shoulder, too tired to fight anymore. His natural scent mixed with his sandalwood cologne hit me; yeah!

Warm. Familiar. Comfort.

And I hated feeling like that.

*********

“Where am I?’ That was the first thought that came to my mind when I opened my eyes on a strange bed in a strange room later.

“What!!!” I said when I realized I wasn't wearing my jeans.

I sat up in a flash, heart thudding, only to feel the hem of an oversized T-shirt slide off one shoulder. My legs were bare, my head pounding, and my mouth tasted like sour apples.

Where the hell was I?

Before I could scream, the door creaked open. And in walked the last person I wanted to see, Milo. Freaking Milo Landry, hair tousled, jaw still sharp, and wearing an expression way too casual for the bomb of awkward I was about to hurl at him.

“You’re awake,” he said.

I gawked at him. “Where am I?”

He folded his hands in front of himself “My room of course.”

“What?”

“You refused to let me take you to your house last night,” he said, rifling through a drawer. “I tried. You were very dramatic about it.”

I blinked. “Wait. I was drunk?”

He turned around with an annoying smirk. “You were drunk like shit, Rivera.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Memories began flashing back in bits and pieces…music, dancing, that sleazy sophomore, me crying like someone had shot my puppy. “Oh my God. Did I... throw up?”

Milo’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Twice. Once on the driveway. Once on yourself. Spectacular aim, though.”

I groaned louder. “No. No no no no.”

“And because I’m not a monster,” he continued, “I wasn’t about to let you marinate in that all night. So I changed you.”

My head shot up. “You changed me…Milo?”

“Relax. I closed my eyes the entire time.” He held up both hands, grinning. “I am not as bad as you think I am.”

“You?” I scowled at him, but deep down I wasn’t mad. Just... mortified. And maybe a tiny bit grateful. Okay, maybe a lot. At least he had the decency not to take me home in my state of drunkenness when I begged him not to.

Without another word, he turned, walked out, and came back a moment later with a neatly folded pile of clothes.

My jeans. My T-shirt. Both smelled faintly of detergent.

“You washed my clothes?” I asked, stunned.

He shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “Figured you’d need them this morning.”

I stared at the folded pile, then looked up at him.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. And I meant it.

Milo didn’t respond right away. His brows lifted slightly. I understood, the word thank you had never once been in my vocabulary towards him. He opened his mouth, closed it, then gave a tiny, almost bashful nod.

Then he cleared his throat and said, “I’ll give you a minute to dress up. Bathroom’s down the hall. New toothbrushes under the mirror if you need one.”

And with that, he was gone.

“What just happened?” I asked myself loudly and sat down stunned for a second.

Milo Landry had taken me in, cleaned me up, washed my clothes, and didn’t even use it to mock me.

One of our neighbors dogs barked, bringing me out of my reverie. I shrugged and dashed a quick glance at his digital clock.

I checked the time. 5:57 AM.

Perfect time to start getting ready for school. So I jumped to my feet and left for our apartment nextdoor.

******

By the time I stepped my feet on the school premises, I instantly regretted it, thinking I should have stayed back home.

Whispers followed me like smoke through the hallways.

I passed a group of juniors near the lockers. One of them gasped and elbowed another, who pulled out a phone and grinned like he had front-row seats to the circus. A trio of cheerleaders burst into stifled laughter when I walked by.

What the hell...?

Then Ellen, one of my close classmates, caught up with me near the biology laboratory.

“Gal,” she said, eyes wide and frantic, “you need to see this.”

I didn’t want to.

But I did.

She pulled out her phone and showed me a blurry video of everything that happened between Evan, Sai and I behind the vending machines last night.

I took a deep breath, I should have known that people would record us on their phones. I thanked Ellen and shrugged saying it was nothing. But that was a lie.

And by third period, someone had already made a meme out of the whole drama and it was sent to my W******p. Almost everyone had it on their phone.

I wanted to die. I wished I could just disappear into the thin air.

But I kept my head down. Moved through the hallways like a ghost. Acted like I didn’t hear the whispers or see the looks or read the messages people weren’t slick enough to hide.

Sai didn't come to school and I was happy she had the good sense not to come.

By lunch, I was so emotionally fried I didn’t even make it to the cafeteria. I sat at the edge of the courtyard with my tray of fries and barely-touched chicken nuggets, head pounding, wishing I could teleport to another country.

Then it got worse.

“Gal.”

I looked up.

Evan stood there, wearing his favorite blue jacket…but his eye was swollen. Blackened. A purpling bruise bloomed across the bridge of his nose, and he was limping slightly.

I stood slowly. “What... happened to you?”

He winced, then gave a half-hearted shrug. “Domestic accident at home.”

I frowned. “That’s not…what kind of domestic accident breaks your face?”

He looked around, lowering his voice. “Look, I just... I came to say I’m sorry. For everything. I messed up. Please forgive me.”

I stared at him, not sure how to respond.

“I was... just a dumbass.”

Well. That much was true.

Before I could ask more, he turned and hobbled off, head bowed.

What the hell happened last night after I left...? I thought to myself.

I got the answer near the end of the school day later.