That New Girl [ On Hold, Rewriting ]

[ 8 ]

[ Dedicated to colliding_stars ]

[ Cassandra’s POV ] 

The first thing I noticed was the pain.

There was a constant throbbing in my foot, from where Melanie had stomped down on it with her heel yesterday. There was also this sore feeling in my back, to which I realized was caused because I had slept on an uncomfortable surface.

That was the second thing I noticed. I had slept on the couch last night, after drifting off when Mean Girls finished.

The third thing I noticed however, was possibly the worst of the three, and probably the most awkward.

I wasn't alone on the couch. I could feel someone’s body beside mine. We were practically spooning. When I opened my eyes, I wasn't expecting to see–

“SHANE!” I screamed, my eyes widening. “What are you doing here?!” He was still asleep.

How did he get here? I thought, frowning.

And then last night’s events came rushing back into my half-awake brain.

Shane showing up at my door, me slamming it back into his face, Shane and his tickling onslaughts, us watching Mean Girls, us falling asleep–

Oh. So that’s how he got here.

“Shane! Get up!” No answer. I tried again. “SHANE RYDER WAKE UP BEFORE I PUSH YOU OFF THE COUCH!” Still nothing.

So, fulfilling my unheard threat, I proceeded to kick him off using my uninjured foot.

He landed on the floor with a grunt and woke up immediately.

“What the bloody hell?” He sat up and ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. “Why am I on the floor?”

“Because you need to go home. Now.” I answered, already beginning to worry about where my parents were. If they came home late last night, they would have surely seen Shane and I on the couch wouldn't they? That would have been awkward if they did.

“Why–” The phone rang then, effectively cutting off whatever Shane wanted to say.

I rushed out of the room to find the source of the ringing and found the handheld on the kitchen bench.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Cass, your mother and I stayed at a friend’s, I hope you were okay on your own last night.” My father’s cheerful voice carried through the speaker.

“Yeah, I was fine dad. When are you getting back?”

“In the afternoon, dinnertime at the latest. If we’re not back then you can go buy some take-out or something, alright?”

“Okay. Bye, dad.” I hung up and walked back into the living room to see Shane flicking through channels on the T.V.

“Shane, go home already.” I glared at the back of his head.

“Nah, I quite like your house, Cass.” My glare intensified.

“Shane,” I started.

“Alright, alright!” And then he got up and left, just like that.

When I heard the door shut behind him, I released a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

Did Shane really just spend the night with me?