Page 35 of Withered

I carefully pry myself from his firm grip and gently push him aside so I can move the comforter. The action makes him groan, but he doesn’t wake up.

Once I’m on my feet, I try to recall yesterday’s event. Jake drove me home; he came home all bruised. Before I can think more, I notice the time on the clock. To say my eyes widen would be an understatement. The time is 11:30 a.m., and I am running late for school. It’s not even been one week since school started, and I’m already missing classes.

I prop one knee on the bed and shake Jake by his shoulders. He groans again, slowly opening his eyes.

“You’re awake.” His voice has a raspy tone.

“Yeah,” I say, sitting on the bed while he leans against the headboard, displaying his naked chest.

“Let’s talk later, shall we? We’re late for school.” I say.

As I'm pushing myself off the bed, he catches my wrist and yanks me back.

“We’re not going to school today,” he states.

“Why?” My voice comes out in a bare whisper.

“We’re ditching. Your alarm didn’t ring because I turned it off. I also texted your mom, telling her that you were staying at a friend’s place,” he says that, and I am shocked.

“You texted my mom?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. Well, you’re stupid enough not to keep a password.” He smirks.

I narrow my eyes and throw my best glare at him.

“Why are we ditching exactly?” I’m still rubbing my temples, which catches his attention.

He stares, making me nervous and shifting uncomfortably.

“What?” I’m getting frustrated.

He breaks the silence with, “How are you feeling?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you this?”

“I’m good. There. Now answer,” he demands.

I’m not in the mood for arguments this early when I just woke up, so I straight up say, “I don’t know. My head hurts like hell. I hate the light, and my throat is as dry as sand.”

“Do you remember last night?” Jake raises an eyebrow at me.

I shrug. “Yes and no.”

With scrunched eyebrows, he asks, “What do you mean?”

“The last thing I remember is that you went down to get me water, and that’s when I ate your brownie,” I confess. “I don’t remember much after that.” I finish and avoid looking at him.

He chuckles, “You do bad, and bad comes to you.”

“What does that mean?” I’m way more confused than before.

“What you ate was a hash brownie. Without asking me. You’re lucky it wasn’t heavily drugged, but still, you were in pretty bad shape. I thought you hated me, Rose. I didn’t think you’d be the type to throw yourself at me.”

My eyes widen with shock and horror.Hash brownie? Drugs? Throw myself at him?

“W-What?” I stutter, my voice choking. There is a moment of silence between us before I try to remember.

Memories of last night come flooding into my mind in pieces. I was laughing and told Jake he was gorgeous, andwe kissed!

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