seven

                                    

                                          
"So where do you live again?" David asked, and it occurred to me that I didn't know the answer. I didn't even know my address; I used my phone GPS to get places, then just did everything backwards to get home. Not only that, but I couldn't tell David where I lived, even if I wanted to. Ms. Bailey warned me the first day about what these kids thought of scholarship students, and if David saw my little yellow cottage, he would know. I couldn't have David, of all people, knowing I was a scholarship student. 
                          
"Can you just bring me to The Dream?" I asked, climbing into his black Mercedes G-Wagon. It fit him, and it was annoying. "My car is there."
                          
"And then what are you going to do? You're drunk."
                          
"I'll just sleep in my car until I sober up," I shrugged, wrapping my arms around my freezing cold, naked torso. David took notice of that and wordlessly flipped on the heat. We drove for a while in silence, completely passing The Dream. "Um, it was back there."
                          
"You're coming to my house," he stated, no sense of wavering or questioning in his tone. I was going to his house, whether I liked it or not. "I'll bring you back to your car tomorrow morning." 
                          
I didn't say anything. It was no use arguing with him. He was stubborn and sober. He would've won any argument I put in front of him. "Why don't you drink?"
                          
His hands gripped the steering wheel just the slightest bit tighter. He said, "My mom got hit by a drunk driver and died. I'm always the designated driver now." 
                          
"I'm so sorry," I told him, gulping nervously while he shrugged indifferently.
                          
"Nothing you could've done," he told me. "You didn't hit her."
                          
It was silent for a few moments, while I gathered the right words to say. I finally settled on, "If you ever want to talk about it... I can relate more than you'd think."
                          
"Oh, yeah?" David asked, curiously raising his eyebrows. "How's that?"
                          
How easy was it to say my mom died of cancer, and my dad didn't ever love me but he loved my mom enough to tolerate me so when she died, he had nothing except for a child he never even wanted, and he killed himself a month later?
                          
Not very.
                          
"Maybe some other time," I frowned, just in time for him to pull into a large driveway. The house was even bigger than Alex's and much more my taste. All I could do was stare in awe as David led me inside and up the stairs to his room. The house was beautiful and decorated well, but it still felt home-y and not like a hotel. Pictures along the wall of the family added to the charming qualities, and I found myself actually liking it. 
                          
David helped me up the stairs, shushing me every time I made a particularly loud step or drunkenly attempted to talk. We entered a bedroom, and I wasn't too shocked at what I saw. The furniture was nice, but basic. The gray walls paired nicely with the black bedding on the king sized bed, and though a few pieces of clothing were strewn haphazardly across the floor, the room itself was pretty neat and tidy. 
                          
"Do you want something to change into?" he asked, and I nodded, flopping down onto his bed with a sigh. I began to unzip my ankle boots, and he dug around in his drawer and pulled out some gray joggers and a black Nike hoodie for me to wear. In my more than tipsy state, I immediately pulled my mesh shirt over my head and began unbuttoning my jeans, not really caring if David saw or what he would think. Luckily, he was decent enough to turn around until I was fully dressed. 
                          
"I like your room," I commented, watching him as he pulled off his jeans. He didn't try to put another pair of pants on, leaving himself in American flag boxers and a plain black t-shirt. "And your bed."
                          
He chuckled at my addition and replied a simple, "Thanks." as he climbed into the bed. The bed was so big that even if I reached out for him on the other side, we wouldn't touch. It looked like he almost said something else, but his bedroom door suddenly swinging open caught us both completely off guard.
                          
The boy who entered was like a clone of David, only a few years older, and I could only assume it was his brother. 
                          
"Sammy?" David asked confusedly, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look at the boy in the doorway. "What the hell are you doing home?"
                          
"Emily is going to her cousin's wedding this weekend at that farm off Castlebrick Road," he explained. Emily was, presumably, his wife and his Talulah. "I just wanted to let you know we were in the room next door. I didn't want you to start having loud ass sex with us across the hall."
                          
"Oh my god," I laughed, unable to contain it. "Trust me, you don't have to worry about that. I would never."
                          
Sam raised his eyebrows at David, who only nodded in response. Their wordless exchange made me feel left out.
                          
"You staying for breakfast?" he asked, and once I made eye contact with him, I realized he was talking to me. I shrugged in response. "You are now. Goodnight, Davey, and goodnight to you, too."
                          
I waved carelessly at him, then he left us alone, quietly shutting David's door behind him. "Goodnight, David. Thanks for not letting me sleep in a parking lot tonight. Or worse... at Alex's house." 
                          
David laughed at that one and replied, "Night, Mona."
                          
I woke up the next morning sober and slightly regretting my decision to have a fucking slumber party with David Dobrik. I didn't want him to think we were friends, or even that I could stand his company. He was still an insufferable asshole, despite the kindness he displayed last night, and I was still not interested.
                          
I carefully climbed out of his bed, sliding off the joggers he loaned me and replacing them with my jeans from last night. I didn't change back into my shirt, just in case I ran into his dad or something. I didn't want to look like a slut.
                          
I poked David a few times to try and wake him up, hoping we could sneak out of his house without his dad ever knowing I was there. I really didn't want to eat breakfast with his dad, his brother, and his sister in law. David finally stirred after a few light slaps to the face, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. "What fucking time is it?"
                          
I thought to myself, his morning voice is kind of hot. This was no time to be horny, I reminded myself. I had to get home before my grandparents realized I didn't come home the night before, and before I had to face David's entire family after spending the night in his bed. 
                          
"It's 8:30," I mumbled, trying not to wake up any of his family members. "Listen, I'm trying to get out of here before I have to eat breakfast with your entire fucking family. Can you please take me to my car?"
                          
"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second," he rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking around the room like he had no clue where he was. His eyes settled on me, and a light but there smirk graced his face. "Are you going to keep my sweatshirt, babe?"
                          
"I'd rather not run into your dad in my see through shirt. Please, just get me out of here," I whined, looking at myself in the mirror and wiping away the mascara that had smeared down my face in my sleep. "And I'm not your babe."
                          
"Okay," David laughed like he didn't quite believe me. He put on the joggers I was wearing just a few minutes earlier and slid his red Vans back on his feet, snatching his car keys and his phone from the bedside table and nodding at me. "Let's go. Tip toe." 
                          
I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm but followed him down the stairs nonetheless, taking my time and trying to make sure that our steps lined up perfectly so it sounded like one person descending the staircase. David, on the other hand, was not as worried. He pranced down the steps with no cares in the world, making it extremely difficult to keep up with his erratic and loud steps. It was almost like he was trying to get us caught.
                          
If he was trying, he succeeded.
                          
We were just at the front door when I heard, "David?" called from another part of the house. I motioned for him to continue walking and ignore the voice, but he stopped in his tracks and replied, "Yes?"
                          
"Who are you trying to sneak out of my house so early in the morning?" 





                          
this chap kinda sucks but tonight im depressed about not having a bf   im in a bad bad awful terrible mood SO im sorry