No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Twenty

...I've been thinking about the texts nonstop. 

But hey, it kept me from lashing out at the ball. There were people who talked to my parents, but only talked to me when they felt they had to. And the texts definitely prevented me from getting into an episode involving champagne-chugging and a possible hangover.

I need to find a different outlet for my issues.

On and off I've been on my laptop applying to Silver Leaf Uni. The application itself isn't hard to do, but every other question has me feeling so overwhelmed that I'm closing the laptop and opening it back up minutes later. Rinse and repeat.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I'd still be on the damn process if I haven't been dragged with Ikra to Jeremiah's house. (He sent us a frantic text with news he would rather tell us to our faces. Again.) Applying through the phone is more difficult than necessary, so I don't have much else than to wait until I get back to the laptop.

The door in front of us hasn't opened yet. Ikra, standing next to me, is as concerned as I am.

"Should I knock again or call him this time?" I ask her. I don't hear my voice over the music I have playing, meaning I have to trust that I'm talking in a moderate tone. 

She shrugs in response. 

"Wow, thanks for the help." Okay, that I can hear.

"What are friends for?" she deadpans.

We keep waiting.

Jeremiah pulls the door open before I decide to barrel in. He quickly leads us inside, closes the door, and has us follow him to the kitchen. The whole commotion is enough for me to focus on anything else than my music for a split second. 

He greets Ikra with a soda, and then faces me. I raise an eyebrow at him as he stares back, expecting me to pull off my earbuds and give him my full attention. 

"Yeah?" I prompt. Selena Gomez continues to convince me she's running with wolves as part of the werewolf transformation ritual. 

My friend gestures for me to pull out the buds. 

"Why? You can't talk with them in?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jeremiah opens his mouth. The music's not at a high volume, so whatever's coming out of his mouth is either a whisper or exaggerated mouthing. If he's gonna be a bitch like that, fine.

He gives up while I'm in the middle of translating his lips into, "Your goat Nan halved two bees."

"You're gonna have to be an adult sometime," Jeremiah says exaggeratedly loud, finishing the sentence he lipped. I smile as if I have been an adult this whole time. "As I was gonna say, I need some help."

I start rifling through cupboards for something to eat. "I'm too busy to help hide the body."

"Damn it, not everything has to do with murder."

"Who said anything about murder?" Ikra pipes up.

The Cheetos are mine. Suck on that, Jeremiah.

He narrows his eyes. "It's all she'll talk about whenever I come to her for help and she tries to puzzle together whatever vague thing I come up with."

"So you admit to being annoyingly vague," I comment.

He squints. "It's not annoying and... yeah? It's a good approach, and I like using it." He shakes his head. "Anyway. As you can tell by the much-emptier house, my parents have a great idea of leaving me with the house, alone, for four days while they're off for a business conference."