It feels like somebody is constantly hitting my head with a hammer. I can. barely lift it up. Did I drink a lot last night? I usually don’t drink a lot, because I have practice most of the time, not to mention that I’m not legally allowed to drink yet, but it seems like last night was an exception.
I slowly open my eyes and frown in confusion when I notice where I am. This bright living room is not mine. What am I doing in Rosie’s living room? How did I end up here?
Fighting the pounding headache that is about to make my head explode, I sit up and rub my face with my hands. Suddenly, everything comes back to me. I called her last night to pick me up. I asked her if I could stay the night at her place and she agreed without asking me any questions. I look at the coffee table in front of me and I find a glass of water and two pills along with a sticky
note.
For your headache ‘I smile a little at the note and swallow the two pills.
I get up from my place and make my way to the bathroom. I wash up quickly and walk out. I notice Rosie’s bedroom door open. Is she awake? I slowly walk towards her bedroom, only to find her fast asleep. What time is it? I take one last look at her before walking away. I don’t want to disturb her. I have already caused her enough disturbance.
I still can’t believe that she came last night. If my memory serves me right, she didn’t take long. There’s a hazy image in my head of us hugging each other in front of the house and God only knows how much I needed that hug.
I head to the kitchen and decide to make us breakfast. It’s the least thing I could do for her after waking her up in the middle of the night. Luckily, I find everything I need to make her something she likes. I know how much she loves pancakes, so I prepare them. I also find some fruits, so I cut some and put them nicely on a plate, and I also make some scrambled eggs.
Rosie surely goes grocery shopping. I barely have anything in my fridge except for leftovers. I mostly depend on take out or eating out after classes or practice. Maybe I should learn from her.
“Silas Cromwell making breakfast in my kitchen? I’m impressed.” I look up
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and I’m met with her gorgeous face. How can somebody look this flawless? Is this how she looks like once she wakes up? It should be illegal to look this beautiful. Her beauty is radiant. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail and her cheeks have a slight pink shade.
She is too good to be true. And I’m not just talking about how she looks. Rosie has an amazing personality and the kindest heart in the en world. The world will surely be a better place if there are a lot of people like her.
“I feel bad about waking you up, so this is my way of thanking you,” I admit.
“First of all, there’s nothing you need to thank me for. Second, I’m super hungry, so I will go brush my teeth and wash my face, then I’m so going to dig in this banquet,” she excitedly says and disappears in the hallway.
It takes her less than five minutes to get back. I watch her as she opens the fridge and pours two glasses of orange juice for us. “You do like drinking it in the morning, right?” she asks and I nod.
I know it’s wrong to think like that, but I could get used to this. I could get used to waking up to her beautiful face and eating breakfast with her. I don’t mind making breakfast for her every morning if she agrees to be my girlfriend.
“This is so good,” she mumbles, eating some of the scrambled eggs.
“Thank you,” I offer her a genuine smile.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks, looking at me. “You seemed pretty bummed yesterday.”
“I’m better.” I nod. I may be better, but I need some time to take in what happened.
“Do you…. do you want to talk about it?” she asks cautiously. I know I can trust Rosie. She is one of the very few people I can trust.
“I was friends with this guy until last night,” I start telling her. “I first met him in freshman year and we got really close. He became one of my closest friends and I thought that he was a good guy. Last night, I heard him talking to another guy at the party, telling him that he was only friends with me because I’m loaded and I take him to nice places and not let him pay.” I thought I
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learned how to differentiate between people, yet I was wrong Looks like I still have a lot to learn.
“I’m so sorry about that.” She places her soft hand on my arm and gives me an apologetic smile. “I’ve been there before in high school. Definitely not the best feeling to know that somebody befriended you because of your money or your family.”
I know who she is talking about. There was this girl who started getting close to her when she started high school. Rosie thought that the girl was nice but later found out that the girl’s parents instructed her to get close to Rosie and form a friendship with her, so it could be easy for the girl’s dad to strike up a partnership with Julian. A very s***d approach if you ask me because Julian Kensington is a very practical man and he won’t partner with somebody just because their daughters are friends. This is what the girl’s father found out and when Julian refused the partnership deal, the girl told Rosie that she didn’t like her and didn’t want to be friends with her.
“I’m glad I have real friends in my life, but I thought I was finally able to tell who ny real friends are,” I say, taking a bit of my pancake. I considered him a very close friend of mine and not once have I felt that he was using me for my
my
money.
“That’s why I’m very cautious when it comes to making friends now. Once bitten twice shy.” She shrugs. “People think I’m an introvert, but the truth is, I don’t want to be used.”
I get her. It’s her defense mechanism and I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should do the same.
“Are you going to tell him that you heard him?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m a confrontational person. I won’t let him walk away without paying the price of using me,” I reply.
“I wish I were like you,” she murmurs, staring at her plate. “Moment of truth.” She looks at me and her sparkling blue eyes meet mine. “I’ve always loved how you don’t let people walk over you. I wish I could be the same, but I can’t. I just walk away.”
“It comes with practice, cupcake,” I say as I playfully poke her nose. “I can help
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you out if you want.”
“You won’t let go of that cupcake thing, huh?” She scrunches her nose.
“Not when it suits you.” I shrug.
“You told me yesterday that you didn’t understand why I didn’t like it when you called me cupcake when cupcakes are adorable an ute and so am I.” I freeze for a moment when she says that.
“What did I exactly say last night?” I ask. I hope that I didn’t mess things up.
“You called me your gorgeous cupcake.” She smirks and my eyes widen. “But you were drunk, so that’s okay.” But I wasn’t drunk when I called her my cupcake under the stars before I discovered how kissable her lips were.
“So how can I repay you, Rosie?”
“I didn’t repay you when you took me home after I discovered that my ex was cheating on me,” she reminds me.
“That’s because there was nothing you were supposed to do,” I tell her.
“Same goes here. There’s nothing you’re supposed to do. You can call me to pick you up whenever you get drunk.” She smiles and my heart flutters.
“I don’t get drunk often. It was just a onetime thing,” I reply. “I think I need to ask you for another favor. Don’t tell your parents or mine about last night.”
“I think now is a good time to make another bargain with you.” She grins, making me laugh.
“What do you want in return? Another month of me not calling you cupcake?” I wonder, resting my arms on the kitchen island.
“No, I want you to be my model.” Now this is an interesting request.
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