Page 26 of Treacherous

Rage coursed through me and I covered the fist Teagan had knotted in my hair with my own before twisting our bodies around and backing her up against my front door.

"One, I didn’t touch your precious car," I spat, getting right in her face. I was so close to her my nose brushed against hers, but it wasn’t lust I was feeling. It was disgust. "And two, don't ever call me a junkie, you judgmental little bitch."

Teagan let go of my hair, her eyes widened in what looked like fear, and I immediately felt like a tool for cussing her out, but then she did something that reminded me of why I wanted to throttle her.

She looked up at me, defiance blazing in her eyes and hissed, "Junkie," into my face before stepping around me and stalking off.

****

Teagan

After my altercation with Noah I stayed at home brooding for the rest of the day. A tiny part of me worried that I may have wronged Noah, but then images of his step-sister's face infiltrated my mind and I quickly flicked that worry and guilt away. And I wasn’t sorry for calling him a junkie either.

The guy was covered in tats, smoked like a trooper and fought like a ninja on steroids. He had to be smoking something – or maybe he was right and I was in fact a judgmental bitch.

I drove myself crazy all evening thinking about the douche and thankfully when Uncle Max left for work Hope stopped by.

Hope hung out with me for the evening and even cooked us dinner – which consisted of two huge bowls of mac and cheese – before working on some trig homework together.

It was after nine when she went home and after showering and dressing into my pajamas my only plans for the rest of my Saturday night involved chilling on the couch and watching Netflix, whilst doing my very best to eat my weight in chocolate andnotthink about the boy next door.

However the second I flicked on the television it became abundantly clear that my plans had been thwarted by the earsplitting rave happening next door.

And that bitch had the cheek to call me a headache…

The walls separating our houses were vibrating from the sheer volume of music playing in the adjoining house, the picture hanging over our mantel piece – the one of my mom – actually rattled from the power of the bass. And the worst damn part was they had no taste in music.

I secretly hoped Ellie was the one in charge of the music, because whatever slither of Noah that was still attractive – personality excluded – in my eyes would wither anddieif I discovered he was the one who had chosen to playMan, I feel like a woman.

Grabbing the house phone off the coffee table, I dialed my uncle's cellphone number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. He'd better have some pretty good calming remedies stashed in the house or some top-shelf liquor because I was so not putting up with this crap.

Uncle Max's phone rang three times before going to voicemail.Great. Lovely. Love you, too, asshat.

Hanging up without leaving a message, I stood and paced the lounge as I mentally tried to rein in my emotions.

Every fiber of my body demanded I go next door and confront them, have it out once and for all.

But what good would it do?That was my rational side talking, the superior part of my mind I hated listening to because it was usually right.

Checking the time on my watch, I realized it was just after eleven. I would give it an hour, I decided. If they were still making noise after midnight, then I would give myself full permission to go next door and kick some ass.

I hated to admit it, but I was feeling lonely and bitter. And weirdly enough, the majority of the bitterness festering inside of me wasn't because of the party next-door, it was becauseIwas sitting here while there was a party going on next door –hisparty.

Liam.

That's it, I could talk to Liam – distract myself from the debauchery happening next door.

Whether Liam and I were together or not anymore was irrelevant. The facts were I'd spent three years of my life as his girlfriend. He was the first boy I'd ever loved, the first and only boy to stick his tongue down my throat – in the back row of the cinema when we were fourteen – and the first and only boy to put his penis in my mouth – granted it was a one-time occurrence and he dumped me straight after, but still…

Opening my laptop, I decided to log onto Facebook to message Liam.

Facebook was a lot like fake tan; time consuming, completely pointless, and utterly addictive. It was the lair of a few billion elite 'socialites' who preferred to conceal their real lives with perfectly concocted propagandas. I still used it, you know, because I had no willpower, and I still used fake tan because I was Irish. I guess I wasn't much of a rebel after all.

To; Liam Harte

From; Teagan Connolly

Message; So… I know we agreed not to do the long distance relationship thing, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends, right? How's school? Please say you're awake and can talk. P.S what time is it back home?

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