14. Chapter Fourteen
“What the fuck is that noise?” I mumble, slowly opening one eye.
The room is flooded with bright sunlight streaming through the window, and it takes me a moment to realize that I’m sprawled out on the couch, with a blanket draped over me.
A sudden loud noise shatters the silence, causing me to shift my focus to the kitchen. There, my mother is diligently loading dishes into the dishwasher. I wonder what time it is, as it must be late for her to be home from work already.
I quickly scope out the room, looking for my phone, and notice it on the coffee table.
Carefully, I reach out to grab it, trying not to alert my mother that I’m awake. Just as I snatch it up, I feel a vibration indicating that there’s a text message. I sink deeper into the couch and open my phone to find a message from Xander.
I swipe the screen and open the message of a photo he snapped last night.
As I gaze upon it, I see a photo of me asleep lying on the couch. Xander’s cheek is squished next to mine, and I take a moment to appreciate his features. He’s got such an amazing smile, it’s a shame he doesn’t show it more often. And his eyes, despite the pain they hold, are still mesmerizing. His tousled hair sticks up, just the way I like it.
Finally, I read the caption he has written for the photo.
Xander: Stop begging me, Princess. No, I will not have sex with you.
I let out a chuckle, but immediately wish I hadn”t as I try to hide my slip-up. Unfortunately, it’s too late, for the noise has already caught my mother’s attention. Her anger is palpable as she strides toward me, coming to a halt at the far end of the lounge.
“You’re supposed to be at school,” my mother says.
“Don’t yell,” I add, as her shrill voice pierces through my head like a relentless drill, pulsating in all the wrong places.
“What did you get up to last night? I come home and find the place is a mess, and you’re asleep on the couch.”
I shift my legs over the edge, attempting to get up, but the throbbing sensation in my head forces me to sit back down.
Is it possible I hit my head last night? I tightly shut my eyes and place my hands on either side of my head.
My mother stops complaining and gives a look of concern.
“Poppy, are you okay?” She reaches out and gently grabs my arm.
I pull my arm away from her grip. “It’s nothing.”
“What’s going on?”
“I said, it’s nothing.” This time, I rise to my feet and remain standing.
“Maybe it would be best if you just stayed home today. I”ll book you a doctor”s appointment,” she says, grabbing her phone from the kitchen counter.
“There’s no need, Mom,” I add. Not saying more because I don’t want to tell her it’s probably just a hangover. I don”t want her to freak out about that when she”s already making a big deal about me crashing on the couch.
But she doesn”t pay attention. She just ignores me and starts scrolling through her contacts.
“Mom,” I add, louder this time to try to get her attention.
“It’s ringing,” she informs me.
Frustrated that she never listens to anything I have to say, I snap. “I don’t need a doctor, it’s just a hangover.”
As soon as those words reach her ears, she glares at me and abruptly hangs up the phone.
“You”ve got a hangover? How did you get your hands on alcohol?”
I just ignore her question and walk away, but she keeps following me ranting and raving.
“Don’t even think about staying home from school now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I have no idea what has come over you in these past few weeks.”
I make a beeline for my bedroom, attempting to close the door to block out her yelling. But she stops me by placing her hand firmly against it. Usually, I wait for her to vent her pent-up frustration before I go for a shower. But I don’t want to hear any of how I’m such a disappointment to her. I turn away, leaving her near the open door still ranting. Lifting my shirt, I head to the bathroom to take a shower.
Standing under the warm water does nothing to drown out her hurtful words. The steam fills the bathroom, offering a temporary escape from the harsh reality outside my bedroom door. I vigorously scrub away the burden of her disappointment, hoping to wash it all away.
As I stand there, head pounding, warm water soothing my body, I couldn”t care less if I miss the morning lessons today. I”ll get there when I feel like it.
When I finally drag myself out of my room, I make sure to avoid looking at my mom as I walk by her near the couch. Her negative words hang heavy in the air, but I won’t let them get to me. I grab my stuff and head to the front door, ready to face whatever comes my way.