A/n: Well you guys are officially bipolar reviewers haha Did last chapter suck that bad?
Well anyways, here is the chapter in Nick's POV that I promised. It has some chapter 10 in it too.. just so you understand his state of mind.
This takes place the night he stood her up and into the party Friday and some of the day after…
We got like 10 chapters left, I'm hopin.
Now, let's find out why Nick stood her up and what went down at that partyyyy!
By the way, this is present tense and not as if he is looking back on it like Miley.
Enjoy Nick's point of view… this won't happen often… ;D
Vamoosing Hearts
Chapter 11 Part 2
Nick's POV
"It's the right decision," I mutter to myself as I pace. She'll be expecting me any minute. I have this mental picture of her sitting on her bed, showered and smelling like fresh fruit and flowers, with that weird incense that her sister burns in the house that reminds me of vanilla and lavender. I had expected that the combination would be nausea inducing, but wound up becoming way too fond of it in such a short time.
I wonder if she'll be dressed up in something sweet and frilly, or kinda sexy. Or if she'll just be straight up naked.
"It doesn't matter," I remind myself.
Never in a million years did I think I would be in this position. I was talking myself out of going to a girl's house to have sex with her. I was trying not to picture her naked. I was talking out loud to myself like a lunatic.
But, what was I supposed to say?
"Hey, Miley, I've been thinking. I know that you're using me and all…and that you've been more than willing to ride my dick since day one, but I don't really feel right about it because I may be developing feelings for you…you blackmailing she-devil with perfect tits."
Somehow I don't think that would go over very well. And it would mean that I wouldn't get to spend the rest of our time together, like we had planned.
I am too far inside of my own head and need to run. There is nothing better than hitting a stride and clearing my thoughts, which is exactly what I needed at this moment. Changing quickly, I pop in my ear buds and secure my iPod to my arm.
Heading straight out the front door, I do a couple of preliminary stretches and then start off down the road. The air is thick and humid, and the fading light of day is becoming even more obscured by looming rain clouds poised to unleash their fury at any second. As if my thoughts are the catalyst, I feel the first fat raindrop hit my ear.
Adjusting my iPod farther under my sleeve, I quicken my pace. There are certain back roads that I am used to taking, but for some reason I find myself going the opposite direction. And when Miley's house comes into view I groan, knowing that my subconscious has led me here.
My instinct is to check for signs of her dad or sister, but she seems to be alone tonight. If I was acting on my gut instinct and actually wanted to take advantage of her offer, then the empty house would be the perfect backdrop for the twisted depravity my mind was cooking up.
Never before, in my entire sexual history, had I wanted someone so badly and denied myself.
My feet instinctively lead me around the side of her house where my tree is mocking me in the rain. The drops have picked up in size and pace, and I'm soaking wet, leaning against the trunk, digging my fingernails into the softening bark.
Night has finally taken over the sky and I can see a faint glow in her window; flickering lights that make me shut my eyes and grit my teeth together. She's lit candles and shit. The house is empty. There's no doubt in my mind that she has some sort of music playing right now…like she's setting up some romantic scene in which I'm going to climb in through her window and take her slow and gentle…
I snort a little at the thought because this afternoon I would not have been sweet or loving with her. I would have screwed her in the athletic closet, shaking the volleyballs and making her…cry, probably. Because I have a sneaking suspicion that the naked, douchebag, sweet talking asshole who took her virginity was all kinds of Hippie Transcendental and probably had sex with her so slowly that she didn't even know he was there.
The rain is coming down in sheets now, torrents of liquid pouring across the leaves of the tree as I stand under it gazing up at her window. It's drenching my shirt, making it stick to my chest while I try in vain to even out my breathing. I can feel it running from my hair and across my face, sliding in between my partially open lips as I make my decision.
My hand shakes while I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll through the contacts to her name. Wiping the water from my face, I sink to my knees and look back up at her window and text five words that make feel like the biggest bastard on the planet. Even if I'm doing it for good reasons.
I CAN'T MAKE IT 2NITE.
With shaking fingers, I press send and close my eyes as the envelope appears on my screen to alert me that the text has gone through. After a moment, I raise my face to her room and see a faint shadow move…and then the flickering stops. She's blowing out the candles and I can barely see her pass by the window to bend over the last one. Her body heat instantly fogs the window and I hold my breath as I see her approach the glass, pressing her hand to the condensation that has formed around the panes. Her hand print is all that is left behind as I watch with a sinking heart while she latches the window, locking me out for the night.
My phone buzzes and I swallow the water running over my lips while I open the new message.
K. C U 2MORROW.
That was…too easy.
Was it actually possible that it wasn't a big deal to her?
I watch for another minute, hoping for some sign of life inside of her room, but it's dark and there is no movement.
"It's the right thing," I remind myself and stand back up slowly. There's no sound around me other than the rain beating down on the wet ground, and I'm thankful. Because the chaos in my head is distracting enough without adding more voices or noise.
It's been three hours since I tried to make myself fall asleep. I'm lying in my bedroom, one leg hanging out of my comforter and both arms flung over my head, gripping the pillow as I press it to my face. I'm begging, pleading for a reprieve from the errant thoughts running through my mind and the anxious feeling that has settled into my stomach.
I'm restless.
I'm agitated.
I'm horny and I miss Miley…the smell of her hair and the taste of her…
"Stop," I groan into the pillow.
I don't want to think about it.
I've rationalized that Monday will be fine. I'll pick her up and we'll do our little routine and then she'll come over and we'll do homework. Just like we have been doing.
Except now I've been in her pants and I can't stop thinking about every twitch of her body or the low moaning sound she made…
"Stop!" I chastise myself and bite the pillow out of frustration. Throwing it across the room, I sit up and pull at my hair angrily. It's this crazy craving I have, like it is a live thing under my skin or in my veins…calling to me now that I've said no. Now that I have tried to do a decent thing, the monster inside is chomping at the bit, wanting it more desperately.
I call Joe to come over and to bring David. I need distractions. This is just crazy.
To pass the time I click on my iHome and settle on some Beatles thinking that it will soothe me. On instinct alone, I am opening my drawing pad, settling into my couch and staring out of my window into the cold, rainy night.
"I don't know how someone controlled you, they bought and sold you…" I quickly change the song.
The lyrics of 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' relating to my life was freaky and I do not need that shit.
"I look at all the lonely people…" Shit. Really?
'Strawberry Fields Forever' played once I changed 'Eleanor Rigby'.
There's no way this song will relate to my life in any way, right?
Unless I was trippin' on LSD… that'd be a different story, of course.
I wonder what she's doing right now. I wonder if she's upset with me or if she's gone to find comfort in someone else's arms.
The thought of her with Jake makes my stomach churn and I wonder exactly when my feelings for her had changed.
When this thing was over…could we put it behind us?
Did I want her to leave me?
I try to imagine not having to drive her to school. Not there with me at lunch. Not sleeping in my arms.
How had my life slipped away from me so suddenly with this girl?
She would destroy me even more than I already am.
And I want her to. This façade I have created doesn't make me happy. Miley makes me happy. Happier and more alive than I had ever felt with anyone else. I am myself around her and she…accepts it.
She makes the loneliness I feel disappear.
I don't like this anymore. The past week was hell. I can't sleep without her presence and lately I didn't want her presence.
It's Friday and we're in chem working on a lab, but her effing hands are shaking so badly she can't use the tweezers. I've noticed over the past few days that her handwriting has gone to hell. She's writing sideways…
And now she can't pick a piece of graphite out of a fucking jar.
"Give me that," I huff, snatching it from her palsy ridden hand.
Moving quickly, I pluck a piece out of the jar and put it in the petri dish.
"Whoa. Check you out, Ripper," she giggles.
"Jack the Ripper isn't really someone to laugh at," I mutter.
She's been like this since Tuesday and I'm over it. She's spent most of the week with Demi and Selena, but I got her alone one night and ended up leaving because she was acting so weird. Hyperactive and unfocused. All she talked about was bullshit I couldn't care less about. And when I tried to bring up something that she usually was enthused about, she just brushed it off and went on about Demi and Selena and their effed up lives.
The one thing I hid from everybody my whole life… everybody but her… and she didn't seem to care as much as she used to. She left me there. In the dust. All alone. Just like before she came waltzing into my life.
It pissed me the fuck off.
"Are you excited about the party tonight?" She asks, batting her eyelashes at me.
I stare at her for a second. "You have a clump of mascara right here," I tell her and point at her face.
She kinda shuts up after that.
After school, I drive home and shower for the party. She's gone to Selena's to get ready and I'm beyond pissed at how this situation has taken a downward spiral into Emo High School Hell. I want my Miley back. In my arms. In her bed. Without her chattering and shaking…
Our last week was shot to hell. I could either blame myself or Selena's dumb pills on the situation… and I'm just so much of a hypocrite that I blame Selena.
At least I can admit it.
I can see all the lights at Selena's house are off as I pass it and I breathe a sigh of relief that Miley has got to be inside Gaston's already. What I can't really fathom is why I am at a party with a bunch of assholes.
Whatever.
The walkway to Gaston's house is already littered with trash and I wonder if he and his scumbag friends started right after school. The party was supposed to start an hour ago, but it looks like it's been going on much longer than that.
I walk inside and the floor of the foyer is covered in baby powder which makes no sense until I see a couple of girls sliding across the floor in their socks and a couple of Justin's dress shirts. The music is so loud that I can't figure out whether or not we should be using sign language or smoke signals to communicate. He's got what seems like a hundred speakers secured from the walls, making what I can only guess is a Guinness World Record for surround sound.
The kitchen is where most of my friends are and I walk in just in time to see Demi pull Miley's hair so that her head falls back and Joe pours a shot of Jager down her throat.
"Ugh," Miley gags. "It tastes like cough syrup!"
Joe laughs and claps a hand on her shoulder. "You'll get used to it."
Her eyes are already rimmed red and she smiles lazily as her gaze lands on me. "Hey," she says brightly. She goes to move but stops suddenly. "I don't feel good, Demi."
Demi blinks slowly and presses her finger to her chin. "Did you eat today?"
Miley nods a little. "I had some carrots. And oatmeal."
"What the hell, Miley?" I yell to her. "You can't drink on an empty stomach!"
She scowls and leans against the counter. "I'll be fine, thanks."
Selena stumbles to the pantry and throws the doors wide. "TWIIIINKIIIES!" She screams, grabbing at a handful and waving them around.
Miley claps her hands a little and slides down the side of the counter onto the floor. I move to stand where I can see her and she has on this incredibly short skirt that's riding up so high that I can see her bright blue underwear. She takes a Twinkie from Selena and rips the package open, throwing the plastic on the floor.
There are more people in the kitchen now, and I can see Gaston and Jake from the corner of my eye, nudging each other and talking into the other's ear. I know they're talking about my girl and it's pissing me off. But not as much as what happens next.
"I looooooove Twinkies," Miley sighs. She snaps the mini cake in half and…licks the center.
White cream filling all over the tip of her tongue.
Yeah. You heard me. Cream. Tongue. Welcome to High School.
"So good," she moans and closes her eyes. She licks at it again. The she does it again. And finally, she sticks her finger into the middle of the cake and swirls it around. And I swear to you, there are now twenty-five guys in the kitchen watching her finger this dessert, and every single one of them is slack jawed and sporting a hard-on.
Even me.
I can't speak…she's so innocently sexy while she licks her fingers clean and then her lips, making this popping sound when she's done. And then she does the same to the other side until the cakes are empty. I'm dumbfounded. I'm intrigued. I'm horny…
Because I actually know what it's like to have her use her mouth on my cock. And I know that the sounds she's making right now are the same ones she makes when she's going to come. And I know that the pink flush on her cheeks is the same as when she's worked up into a frenzy.
We're all gawking as she scoops the last of the filling out…and then she shoves the cake in her mouth and I swear to God that there's an audible sound from behind me. And I know that if I turn around and see Jake Ryan or Gaston rubbing themselves behind me I am going to kill a man.
"I want more," she whines around her mouthful.
And this is about the point that I snap. Shoving past the idiots I call classmates, I grab a bottle of water off of the counter and stoop to pull her off of the ground. "Come on, you need to take a break," I tell her quietly.
"Okay, Nicky," she grins.
We maneuver our way up to the guest bedroom and I'm relieved to see that it's not being used at the moment. I hand Miley her water and lock the door behind us.
"I'm tired," she sighs.
"I know. Just lie down for a while. I can take you home later." Turning the comforter back, I motion for her to lie down.
"Are you staying?" She asks softly.
My instinct is to say no because I'm pissed. But there's no way I'm leaving her alone in this room. Here. At this party.
"Yeah. I'm staying."
She nods and slips off her shoes. Then her skirt. And then her shirt gets pulled over her head. She's standing in front of me in a blue lace bra and matching thong.
"Whoa…slow down," I say with agitation.
She gives me a sad look. "I just want to…hold you. It's been a while and…I miss you."
It's so strange, but there seems to be so much more meaning behind her words than what she's saying out loud. And then I see them…the tears in her eyes as she covers herself and blinks, looking away like she's embarrassed.
"Hey," I call to her and move to stand in front of her. I pull her arms from her chest and turn her chin with my finger so that she's looking at my face. "Why are you doing all of this? This isn't you, Miley."
"I don't want to be me," she admits with a sob.
"Why not? You're perfect…just like you are." I'm serious. I mean all of it. And I can't make her see… "Do you not see yourself?"
"I see myself every damn day, Nick. I know who I am. I know what's wrong with me…" Her shoulders sag and she leans into my chest and she grips the sides of my shirt. "I just want to be…"
"Be what?" I ask her.
Popular?
Pretty?
Liked?
…Loved?
"That's it. I just want to be. To matter. For people to see me."
"But they can't see the real you if you cover the beautiful things up in shit."
Miley lets out a howl that sounds like she's in physical pain. "Why don't you want me, Nick? Why?"
"Oh my God." I shift her over so that she's resting on the bed. She's leaning against me and staring at me with fear. "You think I don't want you? Are you insane?"
Her eyes are shifting back and forth as I speak.
"I have to stop myself from…this," I breathe, placing my hand on her thigh.
"But I want it," she states. "I want you. Just…please. No strings attached." Tears are rolling down her face and she's sobbing. "You don't want me…"
It's too much for me to see. She's so broken and I can't watch her be in pain like this. It feels as if a part of my own heart has been ripped out. "Shh," I tell her as I place a kiss on her cheek. "Don't cry. Don't cry, Miley. Breathe, okay?" My lips move to hers, as if that simple act can let me take her pain from her, devour it and let it settle inside of me.
Her arms wrap around my shoulders and she pulls me close, kissing me through her tears. She tastes like sugar and cake and Jager and salty tears. I can't get enough of her now that I have her again. In my arms and half naked.
"We should stop," I groan, even while I'm shifting myself closer. Her legs wrap around my back and she's pressing herself into my chest while we kiss. I get a taste of her tongue as it darts into my mouth and mine searches it out again, sucking it in between my teeth.
"Please," she murmurs against my lips when I let her tongue go. "I need it. I don't know why, but I do…"
And I know exactly what she's talking about because it's the same for me. This need…this beast that cannot be satisfied with touching her alone…it won't let me sleep. It causes me to think about her every waking hour. I know that the real Miley is here beneath this charade that she's building.
She's the one I want.
She's the girl I can't be without.
She's the one I'll break if she feels the same about me.
"If I give you what you want, will you be happy?" I whisper against the racing pulse in her neck.
"Yes, Nick. It's all I've ever wanted…" She allows her head to roll back and I place a reverent kiss there.
I'm sober.
I am so sober and she's so wasted.
But she's begging me…and the only thing that is keeping me from giving her what she wants is the nagging thought in the back of my mind that she may not remember any of this in the morning.
She's freaking out.
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
Can a girl hyperventilate from taking pills?
"Calm down," I try to say in a soothing tone. "Let's just lie on the bed and calm down, okay?" I'm patting her head like I would do with a dog or something. I hate that I don't really know what to do.
"You-y-y-y-you'll s-s-st-stay ww-w-wwith me, right?" Her face is just wrecked. Makeup is running everywhere and her skin is all blotchy. She looks like she's sweating a little and her lips are swollen from crying.
"I told you I would, so just…lie down." I'msoin over my head.
She does as I ask and I flick off the lights, blanketing us in darkness, which feels nice, even though the music from the party is blaring through the floor. She clutches me, holding onto my shirt while she gains a bit of control over her breathing. I can feel her face in the crook of my neck and if I close my eyes, I can pretend that we're in her bed. Away from the madness of all of this.
Her hands are shaking and she starts moving them down to my belt, and I'm on alert to her movements, so I stop her by grabbing her wrist.
"But…I thought…" She sounds so confused and ruined.
"Just…" I close my eyes in frustration because I really do want it. But not like this. "Rest for a minute, okay?"
She relaxes into me and moves her hand to hold mine under the blanket. Within minutes I can hear her breathing change and her head goes limp on my shoulder. I knew she was close to passing out or something…her hysteria was at such a high level. I wait a few more minutes to make sure she's out and I wiggle my way out from underneath her sleeping form. She sighs a little as I let her hand go, and wraps herself around a pillow, clutching it to her chest like a child would cling to a teddy bear.
I wonder what Miley looked like as a kid…
Pulling at my hair in frustration, I stand and stare at her in the bed. My eyes have adjusted to the lack of light and when I am content with the fact that she's breathing and safe, I walk out the door. I lock it behind me and reach above the door to confiscate the key that should be there. But it's not.
"Damn it," I growl. Rushing down the stairs, I locate Jake on the couch watching two chicks make out. He's hammered and leering at them, and I can practically hear his thoughts… "Jake. Give me the key to the guest bedroom." I hold out my hand, demanding it.
His eyes drift over to me and he snickers. "No."
"I said give me the key, asshole!" I'm screaming. I've lost it.
He narrows his eyes and shakes his head. "You gonna lock her up so she can't go anywhere? You're more of a psycho than I thought…"
I can't contain my rage any longer and I lunge at him, toppling the couch in my haste. Justin is on his back and the beer he has in his hand goes flying across the dining room floor. He lifts his arms to ward off my attack, but he's too slow.
I've got him by the throat.
"I said: Give. Me. The. Key."
He wheezes and nods in horror. "Pocket," he chokes out. I let him go and watch as he puts a shaky hand into his pants and pulls out the key.
I move off of him and turn back towards the stairs to see the entire party staring at me like I'm a chainsaw wielding psycho. "What?" I spit out angrily.
"Dude, you need to relax," Joe calls to me from where he's standing with Demi.
"Do I?" I laugh bitterly. "Do I need to relax? Should I just let that girl up there try to kill herself to be like us?"
"Are you saying she's not one of us?" David's asking, amused in his inebriated state.
"She's better," I challenge him.
"She's just having fun, Jonas. What the hell is your problem?" Selena is leaning against the wall, her stance angry and irritated.
I stand my ground, afraid that if I take a step in her direction I will hit a girl for the first time in my life. "Shut up, Selena. Your version of fun is so jacked up it's not even funny. Why don't you go shove your body issues down someone else's throat and leave Miley alone? She doesn't need to throw up her stomach lining like you do."
Her mouth drops open and she stares at me. "You're such a hypocrite, you know that, Nick?"
I nod and turn towards the stairs. "Yeah. I know." Taking them two at a time I race back to the door and use the key to unlock it and then secure it behind me.
I'm lucky David didn't punch me.
I'm lucky Jake didn't call the cops; but he's not as stupid as he looks.
I'm lucky Gaston didn't have the key to this room.
I'll be lucky to have any friends left in the morning.
But I hear Miley's quiet breathing and suddenly I don't care. I turn on the bathroom fan to drown out the noise and crawl into the bed with her, pulling her back to my chest and wincing when she whispers my name in the dark.
"It hurts," she sighs.
"It'll get better," I promise her quietly.
She lets out a long sigh and I swear that she whispers that she loves me before sleep takes her again.
She pukes three times in the middle of the night. I offer to help her but she declines my offer and I'm left standing on the other side of the bathroom door with nothing to look at other than the streak of light peeking out from under the frame.
Eventually, she crawls back into bed and I can smell the mouthwash that she's used to gargle the taste out of her mouth. Her back is clammy and her hair is soaked, like she's sweating the toxins out. So I hold her tighter, thinking that maybe I can stop her from shattering into a million shards of broken glass.
"I'm sorry," her tiny voice floats above my head.
I sigh deeply and pull her closer. "We're all sorry at some point. Don't beat yourself up over it."
It's the last conversation we have before morning. And as the light of a new day announces itself unapologetically through the slits in the blinds, I groan at the intrusion. I was having an intense dream about fighting for Miley's life against an army of hungry zombies.
I tore them apart limb by limb and lit them on fire.
Looking towards her side of the bed, I convince myself that she is alright. That she will be fine and that she'll make it through whatever weird phase of her life she's going through right now. She looks exhausted, even in her sleep, and I want to tranquilize her for a few days so that she can get some rest.
Her eyes open briefly and then close again as she snuggles her face into her pillow. I watch as her eyebrows draw together and she nuzzles her face against the fabric again. It's funny to me that I can pinpoint the exact moment that she realizes that she's not in her own house…
She startles and her eyes snap open as she rolls over and cowers before her focus lands on me. She seems to breathe a sigh of relief and her eyes close again while she shifts herself more comfortably against the pillow.
"That's the third time in a month that I've woken up and not known where I was," she says with a slight laugh.
"I know that feeling," I say quietly, watching her face. Her eyes open again and once more I am taken aback by how pretty her eyes are. How deep blue they are, but also what designs and other colors are hidden in their depths.
"I'm afraid to ask, but…what happened?" Her teeth are working her lip in worry.
"Your empty stomach didn't like the diet pills and liquor you were feeding it."
She groans and places her hands over her eyes.
"But you really liked molesting that Twinkie that Selena gave you…"
Her hands fall away from her face and she winces. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I know."
"Did I do anything else? Say anything I shouldn't have?"
I want to tell her about her begging and crying and all around breakdown, but since she doesn't remember it, I should just let it go.
"No. I brought you up here and you passed out pretty quickly."
She seems to buy my explanation and stares up at the ceiling.
"I want you to stop taking those pills," I blurt out suddenly.
Her face turns slowly towards me and she blinks. "What? Why?"
Sitting up, I lean over her so that I am all she has in her line of sight. "It's poison. You're completely different on them. They make you sick…they make Selena sick. She's been in the hospital before because she thought she was having a heart attack…do you need me to continue?"
She shakes her head and drops her eyes.
"And I want you to spend the rest of the weekend with me. You won't feel good…and I want to make sure you're okay. The deal ends Monday…"
"You sure want a lot of stuff," she whispers.
Oh, Miley…you have no idea what I want and how much I want it.
"I know. And I'm asking nicely."
"You're not asking at all. You're demanding. Like always…" She shakes her head unhappily.
"Fine," I concede. Sitting up and placing my hands on hers. "Miley? Will you please stop trying to kill yourself with Selena's diet pills? And will you please spend the rest of the weekend with me before we 'break up'?"
Miley smiles a little and rolls her eyes. "I've already lost six pounds, you know…"
"I really don't care," I tell her honestly. "I'd rather you be alive than dead and scrawny."
"You've changed," she whispers.
I squeeze her hands. "You, too."
She huffs exaggeratedly and moves her hands to her hair. "Fine. I guess I can hang out with you. Since you're such a beggar…"
"Oh, see? You're trying to make me look like a loser, begging you to hang out with me…" My words stick in my throat and I wince.
Miley barely reacts. "The best ones are always worth begging for."
It's there again…that buzzing in my veins. The room has grown quiet and it seems like my attraction for her usually grows during moments of silence like this. Especially when she's staring at me as intently as she is in this moment.
She's such a mess. Her hair is in this clumped up tragedy on her head. Her makeup is smeared. Her eyes are swollen and red.
But she's also in that lacy bra and thong…
I'm fighting it…I swear I am. I'm trying to think about crazy weird stuff like the Golden Girls Jello wrestling. Or Joe picking up dead squirrels on the side of the road. Or my parents making out at the breakfast table…
She'sstillin that bra and thong.
I swallow the drool that's accumulated in my mouth and glance towards the bathroom. "Maybe you should take a shower before we go? That way you won't be so…uh…noticeable when you get home."
"I feel like shit, so that's probably a good idea. It's the mother of all hangovers…" Miley looks down and notices for the first time that she's almost naked. She just kind of nods and rolls off of the mattress towards the bathroom. I listen to the door click shut and after a minute the water starts.
This is about the time that I start fantasizing about her in the shower. My eyes close and I can imagine every curve of her hips and the arch of her back…how her ass looks naked and the dimples above those cheeks. I let my mind wander to her chest and the swell of her breasts.
And now my jeans hurt.
I look down at my morning friend and set my jaw. It's overwhelming me…there again beneath the surface and clawing its way out of my skin. She said last night that I could; she said it was all she'd ever wanted. And most drunk admissions were true, right?
Someone PMed me asking why I do the questions at the end of every chapter, well here's the answer: I feel like it's easier to read something when you can connect to it. Most people think they can't connect to something because the situation isn't exactly the same… but so far every single one of you has connected to each chapter. :D
It's just a strategy my English teacher taught me. My grade went up ever since. It helps to relate to what you're reading.
Q: Have you ever defiled a food item? Drunk or sober? Scratch that. I don't wanna know.
Oh and follow me on twitter xD my username is sevenohfive