Chapter 6~ The Muffin
Where on mother’s Earth was I?
Throughout my little stroll down the street in my drunken state, I discovered that Vodka can be a real pain in the ass.
I was still in pain from my stunt earlier.
I remembered that technology does exist these days and almost every teenager alive, keeps one of those squared touchy things where you can talk to someone on.
Luckily for me, I was one of them.
I pulled out my phone from my pocket. I stared at it blankly, not knowing what to do with it.
The time, Alexis. Check the time.
I pressed the circle button on the bottom of the iPhone and a bright picture came up with Kayla and I. It was when we were little. She was wearing a pink dress, with her hair up in a half up-half down style, with a little matching bow clipped in the middle of her hair. Told you she was stylish. Then I was sitting next to her...
In a Teletubbie costume.
I laughed at the picture. Those were the purest memories.
I sat on the side walk of the road and placed my half full bottle of beer next to me.
I sat there for a while, whilst my head still spun. I took off the heel that was broken because let’s face it, heels are painful. But wearing broken heels? That just takes wearing heels to a whole new level.
I was getting bored.
“Well, this isn’t much of an adventure Alexis, ” I say aloud.
Wow...I need to become sober.
I began walking back to the front yard of the house. Surprisingly I knew the way, given my condition at the moment.
However, my adventure only took me down the street.
I walked up the front yard. With my broken heel in one hand and the beer bottle in the other.
Who knows what I looked like?
My hair probably looks like a lion’s mane, I can literally feel my mascara running and my oh my, my leg is fucking killing me. I internally screamed.
Did I already mention that?
Just remember, I’m not completely sober.
Whilst I limped up the hill of the front yard, I felt like passing out.
I gasped in surprise and whirled around to see who scared the bloody daylights out of me.
Oh wait, I’m Alexis and I have really bad balance...being drunk doesn’t help either.
So, of course, I slipped and was waiting for that painful bang to the ground...
Ahem, I’m kind of still waiting...
No, no, there is something. There are warm muscles around me and it smells of leather.
According to my calculations, grass doesn’t feel or smell like that.
I looked up and saw that gorgeous face...with my beer all over his very sexy leather jacket. Oh boy.
“Shit! I’m sorry!”
“We really need to stop bumping into each other like this”
Wait...we have met before?
He must have seen the confused look on my face because he then said something that reminded me of our conversation a couple days ago.
“The leather jacket group guy? Ryan?”
“That’s right” my voice came out really shaky and weird.
“Are you drunk?”
“Well...you see, the alcoholic consumed liquids I downed decided they didn’t want to be my friend. So yeah, just a tad drunk”
“Trust you to use big words whilst in this state”
I giggled. What the hell Alexis? Just stop talking.
He smiled at my giggle.
How do you respond to that when you’re tipsy?
So trust me to say...
And there goes my dignity.
This was going to haunt me forever. But I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t even me. It was Drunk Alexis.
He must like Drunk Alexis because he pinched my cheek and smiled.
“Don’t pinch my cheek”
“I’ll pinch whatever I want to” he then winked.
For some reason, I could feel my cheeks start to heat up. Luckily, it was dark enough for Ryan not to notice.
We stood there for a minute, not saying anything. It was quite nice. He was quite nice if you know what I mean...
Jesus Alexis! Stop being an idiot.
He then looked down then frowned...and then his eyes widened.
“What the fuck happened to your leg?“. He bent down to level himself with my wounded leg. His facial expression turned to sorrow, as he took sight of my bloodied leg.
To be honest, I couldn’t remember.
“Um, the steps over there”, I say while pointing to the hazardous steps, “you can probably guess the rest”. I shrugged at the end of my answer.
He laughed at my response and stood back up. “Well, on the bright side, the scrape is in the shape of a Muffin. Maybe red velvet flavoured because of the dry blood?”
I looked down and observed the shape of the wound, “Hmm, I was thinking more of a croissant”.
As I looked back up to him, my head spun, and I lost balance a little.
Ryan didn’t hesitate. He scooped me up, bridal style and starting walking the opposite direction of the house.
“C’mon, Muffin. Let’s get you cleaned up”
I looked at him like he grew two heads.
“It suits you”
“You know, I thought you were supposed to be some macho bad ass”
“I have my moments”
“Oh really? Because calling a girl ‘muffin’ isn’t really bad ass”
“You’re actually a good guy”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that to come out of my mouth.
“You’re helping me clean my own mess, and you don’t have to, it’s really sweet. ”
I wasn’t expecting that either.
He opened a car door and put me in the passenger seat. The last words I heard before my eyes gave up on me were...
“Trust me muffin, I’m not a good guy”