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Authors: Jade Whitfield
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knocking and I briefly wonder if he'll just walk on right into my room and find I'm not there. It's not like I could say much about it since I'm currently crouching in his closet in just a towel.
"Fucks sake, you cant avoid me forever."
There's no mistaking the determination in his voice as I hold in another breath as he walks past his own room towards what I'm guessing is the stairs. I wait a few more moments, petrified that he'll realize he has to get something and find me in all my naked glory in here. Pushing the door back open I scramble out sprawling in what I'm sure is a very unladylike fashion on the floor. I take a good look at the room. Its very grown up and I mentally curse when comparing it to my pink pussy palace next door. The walls are a light masculine gray, covered in shelves filled with football memorabilia and a few books. There are pictures of what I am sure are very famous, but not famous enough for me to know, football players. Its overall a simple room, all mature and looks very bachelory. It's so tidy which I'm sure is down to Pam, being the clean freak that she is.
I cautiously go back to own room, it’s a good job I'm alone since I probably look like a paranoid psycho at the moment, hey five minutes ago I would have looked like an obsessed stalker psycho so it’s a mild improvement. I chuckle to myself, realizing that I've probably cracked. I purposely try and make my life as simple as possible. I have a limited amount of friends to try and avoid all the bitchy drama that seems to cling to girls so much. I don’t have relationships because I don't want the trouble. Yeah, I know I come across as a pretty aloof bitch most of the time but that’s a lot easier than leaving myself open to pain and disappointment. Now here I am in probably the most stressful situation imaginable, hiding naked in closets, kissing step brothers in cars, kicking jackass' in the balls. Right now, my biggest worry is avoiding Noah forever, or at least until I can get my muddled thoughts in order.
***
I'm dressed ready for battle in my red high waisted skater skirt with a white halter top with a sweetheart neckline. I'm wearing a pair of brown Nine West wedges, my hair pin straight, my nails a fire engine red. Its Sunday night and I've officially avoided Noah for forty one hours, yep still counting. I feel like a Secret Agent with all the moves I've had to pull to avoid him. After feigning sickness yesterday to get out of dinner, today I was forced to make a miraculous recovery just to stop Pam faffing about me.
I'm being forced, yes forced to go down for dinner tonight, since my excuse is now fucking void. Apparently it’s a special occasion what with Noah and me starting our Senior year tomorrow and Chase his Freshman. Poor kid, he's dumb as wood and they're gonna eat him alive. I walk down the stairs, careful not to trip in my obscenely high wedges. I could have probably gone down in sweats but I wear my clothes like armor. If I look good, I feel good. I give Sylvester, who is sitting on the bottom step a wide berth. Fucking furball has really made an enemy outta me, evil little shit. Chase is sitting on the couch playing one of his video games on his XBOX.
"Hey, where is everyone?"
"Moms in the kitchen and Phil and Noah have gone to the store." The kid doesn’t take his eyes from the screen for a second.
"Oh, whatcha playing?"
"Battlefield"
His fingers are bashing all over the controller as I watch as someone's brains gets blown out on the screen, making me flinch. No wonder kids are so fucked up today if this is the shit theyre playing in their spare time. I walk through to the large kitchen, there are pots and pans filling the sink, bowls of food littering the countertop and Pam looks about five minutes from a total meltdown.
"Need any help?" I ask, making her jump and nearly drop the tray she's holding.
"Oh Liv, you scared me. I think I was a little too ambitious with this meal."
"That’s a whole lot
"Fucks sake, you cant avoid me forever."
There's no mistaking the determination in his voice as I hold in another breath as he walks past his own room towards what I'm guessing is the stairs. I wait a few more moments, petrified that he'll realize he has to get something and find me in all my naked glory in here. Pushing the door back open I scramble out sprawling in what I'm sure is a very unladylike fashion on the floor. I take a good look at the room. Its very grown up and I mentally curse when comparing it to my pink pussy palace next door. The walls are a light masculine gray, covered in shelves filled with football memorabilia and a few books. There are pictures of what I am sure are very famous, but not famous enough for me to know, football players. Its overall a simple room, all mature and looks very bachelory. It's so tidy which I'm sure is down to Pam, being the clean freak that she is.
I cautiously go back to own room, it’s a good job I'm alone since I probably look like a paranoid psycho at the moment, hey five minutes ago I would have looked like an obsessed stalker psycho so it’s a mild improvement. I chuckle to myself, realizing that I've probably cracked. I purposely try and make my life as simple as possible. I have a limited amount of friends to try and avoid all the bitchy drama that seems to cling to girls so much. I don’t have relationships because I don't want the trouble. Yeah, I know I come across as a pretty aloof bitch most of the time but that’s a lot easier than leaving myself open to pain and disappointment. Now here I am in probably the most stressful situation imaginable, hiding naked in closets, kissing step brothers in cars, kicking jackass' in the balls. Right now, my biggest worry is avoiding Noah forever, or at least until I can get my muddled thoughts in order.
***
I'm dressed ready for battle in my red high waisted skater skirt with a white halter top with a sweetheart neckline. I'm wearing a pair of brown Nine West wedges, my hair pin straight, my nails a fire engine red. Its Sunday night and I've officially avoided Noah for forty one hours, yep still counting. I feel like a Secret Agent with all the moves I've had to pull to avoid him. After feigning sickness yesterday to get out of dinner, today I was forced to make a miraculous recovery just to stop Pam faffing about me.
I'm being forced, yes forced to go down for dinner tonight, since my excuse is now fucking void. Apparently it’s a special occasion what with Noah and me starting our Senior year tomorrow and Chase his Freshman. Poor kid, he's dumb as wood and they're gonna eat him alive. I walk down the stairs, careful not to trip in my obscenely high wedges. I could have probably gone down in sweats but I wear my clothes like armor. If I look good, I feel good. I give Sylvester, who is sitting on the bottom step a wide berth. Fucking furball has really made an enemy outta me, evil little shit. Chase is sitting on the couch playing one of his video games on his XBOX.
"Hey, where is everyone?"
"Moms in the kitchen and Phil and Noah have gone to the store." The kid doesn’t take his eyes from the screen for a second.
"Oh, whatcha playing?"
"Battlefield"
His fingers are bashing all over the controller as I watch as someone's brains gets blown out on the screen, making me flinch. No wonder kids are so fucked up today if this is the shit theyre playing in their spare time. I walk through to the large kitchen, there are pots and pans filling the sink, bowls of food littering the countertop and Pam looks about five minutes from a total meltdown.
"Need any help?" I ask, making her jump and nearly drop the tray she's holding.
"Oh Liv, you scared me. I think I was a little too ambitious with this meal."
"That’s a whole lot
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