The Wallflower and the Prankster

Chapter Nine: The Plan

This is a note to all my readers that I am really grateful you read this far. :)

Okay, this is probably the first chapter I'll edit in my second draft. Not joking. I am not proud of this chapter as my previous ones, since I am having a bit of a writer's block. Be patient because I promise you, after this chapter, things will get interesting.

Enjoy...

__________________________________________________________________________

Alazne

My mother yielded me in a hug, when the police finally finished their protocol check-up. “I should have never let you go to the dance. It’s bad news,” she told me.  I didn’t answer her, still unnerved by how I freaked out on Josh. We were both captured, and we escaped. I should have been in pure glee and ready to celebrate, instead I acted like a jerk and dumped the whole blame-bomb on him as soon as we were safe. I tightened my arms around my mother.

          “What have you done this time, Josh?” Eve tone rang with authority. “Did you even think of those risks?”

          “And the lawsuits?” John added. I pulled away from my mom, and the corner of my eyes peered at Josh’s siblings.  They looked a mess from their usual selves, their hair was tousled, and clothes were rumpled like they ran to the police the moment they got the call. Where were his parents?

          “You need anything?” My mother asked, breaking out of my arms. She cupped my cheeks. “A drink, maybe chips or something? Your dad will make a quick stop.”

          I shook my head. “Water is fine.”

          “Okay. I’ll be right back. ” My mother patted my back before she paced down the hallway and disappeared from my vision. I took a seat down on the worn-down chairs at the police office. It smelt like minty with a side of a donut. The walls were plastered up with diplomas and awards. Everything about this office screamed: the best. Some officers walked by me, giving me a quick look. They mainly focused their attention at Josh’s family, some even approached them, asking about how Josh was doing. I frowned at their reaction to me; they all just brushed me off and swarmed around the other victim.  Josh must really enjoy that attention. I smirked, catching the eyes of Josh. 

          Josh patted a police officer on his shoulder, and walked in my direction, sliding on a chair beside me. “Long night, huh Alana?” I didn’t answer him, too annoyed at how he thinks I can forgive him like that. He got me kidnapped—I knew it wasn’t a hundred percent his fault, it just felt better blaming someone else. “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get out of control. Rain check?” He rubbed he back of his neck. I was an idiot for starting at him; his blonde hair was tousled around and how big his puppy-dog eyes were. Ugh…

          I shrugged, dismissing the conversation, then  I rested my cheek on my propped up hand on the armrest.

          “Is that a yes?”

          “I really could care less,” I said, dully. Gosh, I sounded like a idiot saying that. Couldn’t I think of something more clever to say? 

          “Yoloo,” Josh chanted, an image of Josh’s smile played in my head.  I reciprocated his positive energy, when the lips of my lips curled.

          “What does that mean?” My face flustered at my attempt to start a conversation. “Yolo. I mean.” I turned and admired Josh’s facial expression. His brows rose, and his mouth widened at my question. Clearing his throat he said: