Chapter Six

                                    

                                          
Chapter Six
                          
I could still feel his kiss on my lips and it's been five hours since I got off of work. No matter how many times I wiped at my mouth it was still there.
                          
It's freaking nuts! I'm freaking nuts! I absolutely hate this guy and now after one kiss he has me thinking about him more than I've ever thought about him in my while life.
                          
"I hate you Kingsley!" I yell at the empty house. He makes me so irritated sometimes!
                          
Natty told me she wouldn't be home tonight. Something or other about a magazine deadline--I didn't read the note on the tv very thoroughly, I usually never do. Her fashion magazine is totally out of my world and I don't plan to visit it either.
                          
Now that I think about it, why would Natty put the note on the TV and not the refrigerator like normal people?
                          
I busted up laughing, almost falling off the couch, my empty stomach protesting at the outburst, and ended up giving a sad little sigh at the end.
                          
Why would I bother going to the fridge, or even the kitchen at all when there's not one bit of food in it. Not even expired mustard.
                          
Lucky Natty, she gets to eat where she works. I'm a prisoner at my job.
                          
In my depressed state I traveled to the couched and plopped down, fluffing a pillow behind my head. And here I lie, trying to push all thoughts of Kingsley away, but it was harder than I thought.
                          
Out of nowhere my stomach gurgled painfully and my mouth began to water. I ran to the bathroom feeling the need to be sick and chucked in the toilet, not even bothering with the seat.
                          
Maybe I shouldn't of eaten that mustard after all, lesson learned--seriously, like five heaves ago--and thank god for buns.
                          
After brushing my teeth I sauntered over to my bed, even hungrier now, and forced all traces of Him away from my mind.
                          
Minutes later I had fallen asleep to the Tyra Banks show and the sound of my rumbling stomach.
                          
-•••-
                          
"I...hate you, Kingsley...Thomas!" I yell over my shoulder out if breath.
                          
It's only six in the morning and "The King" was already chasing me down the neighborhood. Somewhere I knew his little "loyal follower" brats would be hiding, waiting for the right moment to catch me.
                          
I turned left and took off down the block, turned right, another left, dodged through an alley with Kingsley on my heels.
                          
All of a sudden something tackled me from the side as I ran through the Mortimer's backyard. I spun and crashed to the ground face first, getting a nasty mouthful of dirt.
                          
"Get off me!" I yelled, wrestling with whom I believed to be Jacob. I could tell because I could see a patch if true red hair between arms and legs. "Jacob, you jerk!"
                          
I heard him snicker and kicked him in the face, taking care of that problem.
                          
He lay in the grass with a bloody nose, screaming his head off. I thought he might explode, but it didn't seem broken, so I won't get into too much trouble. Hopefully.
                          
There was a soft jingle and then heavy breathing. Marley and Gerald were coming at me fast.
                          
"There's nowhere to run," Marley says, ignoring Jacob's cries for help.
                          
"Eat my shorts!" I yell, doing a very bad imitation of Bart Simpson and sticking out my tongue.
                          
Then I ran for my life.
                          
My legs were sore and starting to cramp, but I ran like there was a fire. Kingsley has something planned and I don't intend to find out what it is.