Falling For A Criminal

Falling For A Criminal - Chapter Sixteen

Groaning, I sat up in the bed and kept my eyes closed; trying to push away the migraine that I felt get worse and worse with each passing second. It was my own fault for drinking so much of the whiskey, but that was the last thing on my mind at the moment. What I really wanted to do was find out what time it was so I could get to school without a problem.

That dream was crushed when I looked over at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was already two in the afternoon. Even if I had got up right now, showered and ran to school, I wouldn't have made it in time, and I knew that. So, instead of making my head hurt even more with the thought of the school calling my mom and telling her I wasn't there, I lied back down and tried to remember everything from yesterday. The only thing that came to me though was Chase asking me to drink with him, Haydn coming home and finding us almost passed out on the couch, and us arguing about something. Everything else is kind of fuzzy, which again, was my own fault.

I had only been laying in my spot on the bed for a few seconds before I sat up and looked around; finding myself in my bedroom in my house. “What in the hell?” I sat up again, this time, too fast, and threw the blanket off of myself, finding that I wasn't in the pair of short shorts and oversized t-shirt, but in my school uniform that didn't smell like vinegar! 'How did I. . .'

Not wanting to believe I was going crazy again, I stepped off of the bed and walked towards the curtain that stood in my doorway. Once I was on the other side of it, I walked down the narrow hallway and down the stairs to see if my mother was in the living room or if my father was in the kitchen, but no one was around. Not even Trace was here to try and harass me, and I didn't get it. Where could everyone have gone?

As if someone knew that I was now awake and conscious, my phone began to ring in my pocket, and when I looked at the screen, I saw that it was none other than Trace trying to get in contact with me. So, since I didn't want to be alone in this big house any longer than I needed to, I answered and blew out a sigh. “Hey, bro.”

“Hey, Adri, you're home right? I keep losing my key. . .”

“Your key. . ? Why would you have a key? Mom didn't give you one.”

He laughed, sounding almost nervous, before continuing. “Mom made sure I had a key, stupid. How else am I supposed to get back inside my house?”

“Through the window like last time?”

“The window? Are you OK, Adri? You seem a bit. . . Off.” He didn't even give me time to answer before he continued speaking. “Just leave the door unlocked, OK? I should be home in about five minutes. Then we can go take a walk over to the ice cream shop on the corner like we always do.”

That was pretty much when I lost it. Trace and I hadn't been to that ice cream shop together since he left four years ago, so what did he mean 'like we always do'? We don't always do anything because I never see him anymore. Sure, he comes and goes around school whenever he feels like it, but I wouldn't very well say that he's always around. That would just be lying to myself, and that isn't healthy.

I didn't want to be in the foyer when he got here though, so after I unlocked the door, I walked back up the stairs and into the bathroom so I could brush my teeth and shower. The taste of whiskey was still oddly enough on my tongue, so getting rid of it would be refreshing. Also, even though my shirt didn't still smell like vinegar, I could remember clearly how Chase spilled it on me while he was trying to get rid of my bruises—

Looking up at the mirror, I touched my face and resisted the urge to frown when I saw that the bruises were gone—and so was the pain that came with them. It was almost as if every negative that came with Trace's return had disappeared—excluding the loss of my door, of course. I wasn't sure what to think of it. Maybe I should be concerned? I knew that I hadn't made the entire past few weeks up, but still. . .