Bad News Page 5

“Stop.” I hiss mortified. The boys notice us staring. “They so know we’re talking about them.”

  “Shit.” She quickly looks away from them and squints. “Did I make it obvious?”

  I just nod slowly. All I can do it just nod. The waitress comes around, and thankfully it blocks the view of the table.

  I order. “Two strawberry milkshakes, please.” The waitress is gone, and back again within minutes with our shakes. She sets down the tall glasses in front of us, smiles and leaves.

  “Have you started on your elevator pitch yet?” Nicki asks. “Sometimes I don’t know why I chose business as a subject.” Picking up her milkshake, she takes a gulp without her straw, giving herself a moustache.

  “Uh, Nick…” before I can tell her, I watch Nicki’s eyes wander from mine, and halt at something next to me. I frown, then turn to see Hunter standing beside me, a side smirk presenting itself across his beautiful lips.

  “Uh, can I help you?” I ask.

  Before he speaks, a beat comes to life around the diner. It’s Carly Rae Jepson, and Hunter starts singing the song to me.

  I grit my teeth. “Hunter, stop. Everyone is watching.”

  He laughs, “I’ll only stop singing when you agree to go out with me. Desperate measures…”

  I run my hands through my hair and risk a glance around the diner, everyone is still watching as he sings at the top of his lungs.

  “Give him a chance, sweet cheeks.” One of his squad shouts over.

  Oh. Lord.

  “Okay, okay.” I grip hold of Hunter’s elbow, pull him towards me and grit my teeth. “I’ll go out with you.”

  I feel Hunter's whole body sag in relief, then a smile brightens up his face. “I knew you’d come to your senses. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Hunter leans over and plants a quick kiss to my cheek. He turns his back on me, and I shout louder than I intended to.

  “Tonight?”

  He turns on his heel. “Tonight.”

  “We have a business presentation tonight.” I glare at Nicki. “Don’t we.”

  Nicki is clueless. “Do we?”

  “You won’t get out of this, Lou-Lou.” He winks, then comes back to me. He takes my phone from the table. “Let me put my number in your contact list, and you can call me whenever you like.” After he hands me back my phone, he turns to Nicki. “Uh, nice moustache you got going on there.” Hunter points to his own delicious mouth, and Nicki gets the hint, wiping away the milkshake with her sleeve.

  Nicki grabs my hand fiercely when Hunter is gone. “Firstly, why the hell is Hunter Holland singing to you? Secondly, you have a date with Hunter Holland? Thirdly, that was the first time I got to speak to the boy, and I got a fucking milk moustache? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I put my hand on my mouth to hide my grin. “I tried to, but Hunter interrupted.”

  She bows her head down, so her forehead hits the table. “This is more embarrassing than the time I sat in the wrong class for thirty-five minutes before I realized I shouldn’t have been there.” I laugh, then apologize for it. “No laugh, it's fine,” Nicki says. “My life is full of awkward moments.”

  ***

  “Did he say where he is taking you?” Fallon asks as I riffle through my closet. I shake my head. “So how do you know what to wear?”

  I pull a blouse from the hanger. “What about this?”

  A match that Fallon has been chewing falls out of her mouth as she gawks. “That? Girl, hell no. You’d look like you’re wearing my Grandmother’s drapes.”

  “But it’s pretty,” I whine, and Fallon swipes it out of my hands.

  “Let me see.” Fallon checks through my rack of clothes. “Baggy t-shirts, turtlenecks, cardigans? Who wears those anymore?”

  “Uh, me.” I pull a denim jacket from her hand and pull it over my white tank top which I’ve tucked into skinny jeans. I push my feet into flats and raise my brow to Fallon. “Are these acceptable?”

  She glances away and mumbles. “I would have worn heels.”

  “I am not wearing heels. I don’t even own a pair.”

  “Clearly.” She huffs and points to my head. “What are you wearing your hair like?” I take the brush from my desk and comb my long blonde locks through. They fall wavy.

  “Just like this.”

  “Be bold Lou, wear a side parting.” Fallon teases.

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” I joke.

  Fallon laughs even harder. “The most rebellious thing you do is wear a black bra with a white top. Yolo.”

  I glance down at my breasts and clutch at them. “I’m wearing a black bra with a white vest top.” Cringe. I take a white bra from the drawer.

  “Change your panties too.”

  “What for?” I frown.

  Fallon slaps her forehead. “Christ Lou, you have to wear matching underwear.”

  Is she for real? Who does she think I am?

  “I didn’t even intend on agreeing to go on a date with him. So, I definitely don’t intend on showing Hunter my panties.”

  My phone buzzes with an incoming text. I scarper to it before Fallon does. “It’s Hunter.” My heart does a flutter and I smirk when I see what he has saved his name under.

  Future Husband: Meet me at the Bowl Haven in an hour. H x

  Now our date is becoming real, I feel sick.

  “Let’s see.” Fallon’s head is over my shoulder and reading the text. “Meet me at The Bowl Haven at 8.30?” Fallon scoffs. “Future Husband? He wishes. Why is he not picking you up? True asshole.”

  I move my phone out of her sight. “There’s no harm in meeting him there, Fallon.”

  Fallon rolls her eyes and lies on her bed. “It’s a first date, he should come and pick you up.”

  I ignore her and pick up my backpack. “Wish me luck.” I take a deep breath and try to smile, but it gets replaced with dread. “God, I’m so nervous I could vomit.”

  Fallon rolls off her bed and takes me by my shoulders. “Okay, breathe, breathe…” I do what she says, but it only makes it worse. “Breathe, or you could quickly down a shot of tequila?”

  I push her away from me. “Good God, no.”

  “Good God?” Fallon stares at me like I’m a rare species. “You dress like my Gran's drapes and sound like my aunt, Bessie.” She shakes me. “And they’re 98. Not cool.” I laugh and she winks at me. “Anyway,” she gives me a hug, “Enjoy your night.”

  Chapter 10

  Louisa

  I’m walking around the arcades like a lost soul. Hunter was meant to meet me here thirty minutes ago, and he’s still a no show. I tried calling him but he’s not answering, and I wonder if I had done or said anything wrong? Maybe he’s stuck in traffic, and he’s left his phone at home? What if he’s changed his mind? Had a better offer? All these scenarios run through my head, and it's driving me crazy.

  I text Hunter again and tell him I’ll be waiting in the food hall.

  Ten minutes later, I’m sitting at the table, my fingers drumming along the plastic table cloth. “Where the hell is he?” I grumble. The longer I wait, the more that idea of being letdown crawls into my stomach, leaving me feeling nauseated. Even angry.

  I lift my wrist and check the time on my watch, again. Okay, he’s now an hour late. I think I’ll give him another five minutes. I must give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Anticipation, of course, turns to doubt, and I start mindlessly disturbing the arranged sachets of salt and pepper on the table.

  “Hey,” I glance up as a soft voice interrupts my thoughts. “Are you waiting for someone? If not, could I join you?”

  I am now looking at a young boy who is wearing a checked shirt, standing in front of me with his hair sleekly gelled to the side. I shake my head. “I’m just about to leave.”

  “Let me buy you a something to eat, at least.” He clears his throat. “Tell the guy who has stood you up that a gentleman has taken his place.” He smiles and straightens out his quirky bowtie that spikes a laugh from my othe
rwise disappointed form.

  “Why not.” I shrug.

  “Nicolas.” His smile is small and as quirky as his tie. Not the same pattern of course, but it warms me. I mentally tell Hunter to get stuffed. His chance has well and truly blown from that candle. I can’t help but feel deflated, mix that with embarrassed and that pretty much sums up my mood right about now. What’s more, I am accepting dinner from a stranger who looks like he’s just stepped out of another era.

  Well done, Lou. Well, freaking done.

  ***

  Two hours later, me and Nicolas are enjoying a conversation about historical fashion, until I watch Nicolas’s eyes wonder behind my shoulder. I glance behind me and find Hunter standing there, arms crossed, his black ball cap lowered–but not enough to avoid the way his eyes are raging at the both of us.

  “What the hell is this?” his voice is low. He’s glaring at Nicolas.

  “Hunter,” I gasp. “Where have you been?”

  He stares at Nicolas. “I was running late.”

  “Late?” I hiss. “Two hours late.” I don’t care what he may think about me sitting with another boy right now. How can he act like being two hours late isn’t a crime? It is in the girl world, thank you very much. Hell, a minute late is a crime.

  “I’m late so you decide to ditch me for Eugene, here?” he says.

  I grit my teeth. “His name is Nicolas.”

  “And I have a mouth,” Nicolas says, getting up from the chair.

  Hunter steps forward and grabs hold of Nicolas’s bow tie. “And I have a fist that can easily fuck it up if you don’t leave.”

  “Hunter!” I grab hold of his arm and he lets Nicolas go. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Nicolas’s scoffs and straightens out his bow tie. “You were wasting your time waiting for this guy?”

  Hunter steps towards him again. “What did you just say?”

  “That’s enough, Hunter.” I stand between them. “Forget Nicolas. The fact is you pestered me enough about going on a date with you. I finally give in, and you’re two damn hours late. Where have you been?” Hunter still isn’t looking at me; his gaze is fixed on Nicolas behind me. At this point, I’m done. “You know what, forget it.”

  I storm out of the bowling complex in a rage and head back to campus.

  ***

  “How did it go?” Fallon asks as she watches me walk through the door. She notices the way I slam the door, the way I shove down my backpack, the way I kick off my shoes in a huff. She pulls off her headphones and sits up in bed. I look away from her and find a hair tie on my desk to scrape my hair into a messy bun before I sit down on my bed to face her.

  “What did he do?” she sighs.

  “He didn’t turn up.” I close my eyes, awaiting her verbal attack on Hunter.

  “The mother fucker!”

  I shrug my jacket off my shoulders. I don’t want to tell her what really happened, because stupidly, I don’t want her to curse him. “He probably had something else on.”

  Fallon pushes to her feet. “No, no, no Lou. Do not start with that.”

  I look up at her. “With what?”

  She flaps her hand around. “With acting all Mother Teresa and not seeing the bad in people. What he’s done is a fucking jerk move. He’ll be sorry when I’m done with him.”

  I take off my jeans and pull on pajama bottoms. “Fallon, please don’t say anything. I don’t want you to make a scene.”

  Of course, she doesn’t listen and swipes my phone from my bed. I groan, making zero attempts to take it off her. I watch her find his number and call him, he doesn’t answer, so she leaves a message.

  “You better protect your balls tomorrow Holland, because I am going to grip them so hard you’ll be talking like Alvin the fucking Chipmunk.” She hangs up, and I am frozen with cringe syndrome right now.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” I whisper. Fallon still has my phone, and she is scrolling and typing something before she hands it back to me.

  “Believe it baby. Future husband.” She scoffs. I scroll through my contact list and see she has replaced Hunter’s name as motherfucker.

  Fallon climbs into bed and pulls the duvet over her head. “Get some sleep, Lou. We’ll deal with that ass tomorrow.”

  I try to sleep, but it’s useless. Why won’t my brain stop thinking? Thinking about logical reasons why Hunter was late for our first date. Maybe he was messing with me and didn’t really want to take me out. I mean, who would want the frigid good girl? Oh, no, I didn’t even thank Nicolas for being so kind, now I know I won’t get any sleep because of Hunter, and because of the feeling of guilt towards a stranger with a cute bowtie who only wanted to be nice. Why me?

  ***

  The door knocks, and it slowly disturbs me from my sleep the next morning. I don’t open my eyes, thinking it will go away, but it doesn’t. The knocks get louder and disturb Fallon’s sleep, which is not good. She throws her blanket off her body and storms towards the door.

  “Someone wants to fucking die today.” She yells, yanking the door open. “You!” She growls. I spring up in bed and see Hunter in the doorway, covering his manhood because Fallon is about to act out her revenge.

  “Let me explain.” He begs. I pull my comforter back over my head. I do not want to see him right now. Not before I’ve brushed my teeth, anyway.

  “Explain?” Fallon shrieks. “At quarter past 7 in the morning? I do not have to be up until 7.30, and those fifteen fucking minutes are precious to me. You have ruined my sleep routine, and you fucking dumped on my friend last night.”

  “Just let me explain.” He continues.

  I hear Fallon try to close the door, but Hunter must have his foot jammed in the way. “Hunter, I swear on the holy bible, if you do not remove your foot from this door, I will be forced to make you sound like Alvin.”

  “I thought you didn’t like balls?” he jokes.

  “Fuck you. Twice.” She yells, slamming the door finally.

  “Thank you.” I sigh.

  She looks down on me still in bed, clutching at her messy black hair. “If that fuckwit ever wakes me up again, I will not be held responsible for cutting off his dick.” She throws herself back into bed.

  I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Should I let him explain? Of course, I should.

  Chapter 11

  Hunter

  I run the whole length of the track, then do it again. I always get up early for a run, the fresh air allows me to clear my mind, and this morning, I needed a shit load cleared. I feel like a fucking idiot. I wish the ball grabber that is Louisa’s best friend would have let me in to explain. But what would I have told her? The truth or made some shit up? No doubt I would have made some shit up. Now I’m pissed because she might not give me a second chance, I mean, why would she? I was two hours late, then I acted all fucking Rambo on that bowtie wearing jerk’s ass. If she doesn’t give me another chance, that’s fine. That doesn’t mean I will stop trying to win her over, though.

  Sweat is dripping down the front on my gray t-shirt, so I head back to my apartment to take a shower.

  “Holland!” Jaxon howls my name when I enter. I see him sitting on the sofa, a large bowl of cereal in his lap for breakfast. “Where did you stop out to last night, dude?”

  I push my hair out of my face and throw myself on the sofa. “Don’t ask man.” I didn’t get any sleep last night because of my father, and I have an early class I can’t get out of. I need to shower, get changed and move my ass. But my ass refuses to move.

  “You look as shit as I feel,” I mumble when Jaxon gets up to put his bowl in the sink.

  “Ashby kept me up all fucking night with a crazy chick he pulled.” He says. “I swear to God, she sounded like a llama.”

  I grin and throw my arm over my eyes to block out the sunlight coming in from the windows. “His dick is always out of his pants.” Us boys have a reputation, but none of it is true, all except Ashby’s. Everything about him being
a manwhore who has a different girl every night is true. His reputation has rubbed off and Jax and me, but I don’t go around trying to defend myself. Let them all talk. Who gives a fuck.

  I take a shower, pull on a white T-shirt, dark jeans, and push my feet into brown Levi boots. I throw on my navy bomber jacket that Jaxon hates, and check myself out in the mirror. Damn, I look good.

  “You’re wearing that jacket that I love.” Jaxon fucks with me as I run my hands through my hair.

  “Shut the fuck up, Mr Trench coat. Not all of us like to dress like David Beckham.”

  He laughs as I head out of the door.

  I sit through my human biology class irritated to shit. I don’t take anything in. All I can think about is what I’m going to say to Louisa, and how to make it up to her. My class ends, so I take out my phone about to call her, but I see a missed call from my dad. I delete the notification angrily and call Louisa. Again, she doesn’t answer. I push my phone into my jeans pocket and head over towards the cafeteria. My strides are determined until I see Savannah walking towards me even more furious than I am.

  “Shit.” I rub my forehead. I do not need this right now.

  “Hunt, did you get my text?” Her hand comes onto my chest, stopping me from movement. I take hold of her hand and place it by her side.

  “I changed my number,” I try to walk around her but her grip on me is fierce.

  “Why would you do that? To avoid me?”

  “Got it in one.” I turn again, but she pulls me back. My head tilts back, and a frustrated groan growls from my throat.

  “Oh, I’m not good enough for you now? Shall I tell everyone here how you broke my heart.”

  I narrow my eyes at her, then pull her into me by her wrist. “Do you want me to show everyone here that video of you sucking Johnson's dick?” Her eyes go wide, and her face proves she did it. “Whenever I do something, there is always a reason for it. I dumped you because you fucked with me. Get over it.” I let her wrist go, turn without any disruptions and head towards the canteen. Savannah is just another big pain in my ass.

  Louisa.

  I make my way inside the cafeteria at lunch time. My sister asked me to go and sit with her and her sorority, but I refused. Instead, I take an empty table with Axel. Bree and her friends are waiting for the Rouge table to be filled, and I’m over here hoping it doesn’t get filled.