Chapter 17 - CIRCLES

Bang bang into the room

Bang Bang all over....

I shut my alarm off and rub my eyes with my hands. Yesterday was exhausting to say the least; I slept by 3:00am which means I'm going to function on only five hours of sleep. As I skim the time on my bedside alarm, I immediately consider whether today's 'obstacle course' is actually worth it. The school, or should I say, Principal Grande, has planned a 'group activity' in the woods. He briefed us about this on the bus and according to him, it's a way for us to 'bond' and 'spend some quality time together.' We are supposed to come dressed in a plain white T-shirt and jeans and pack a bag full of essential items since we're going to be engaging in strenuous physical activity.

This is just a load of bull if you ask me. I know it's not a vacation, but then again it shouldn't be a 'how to survive in case the world ends in two days crash course 101.'

The day just started and it already looks shitty.

I look to my left and notice that Jason is not on his bed. The pillows and covers are all still in place, almost like he didn't sleep here last night. Paris escorted me to my room last night and I went straight to bed shortly after so I have no idea if he even made it to our room.

My phone pings and I open it to see three missed calls from my mum, fifteen messages from Bob, three text messages from Paris, and various notifications from Snapchat, Instagram and Twitter. I dial my mum's number and she picks up on the first ring. "Melody Lianna Jones, I've been calling you for hours."

It's actually been minutes, but who is counting?

"I'm sorry, mum. I was busy...you know...sleeping. It's an activity which both humans and animals engage in on a regular basis mostly at night."

"Don't get sarcastic with me young lady,'' she laughs over the phone.

"Yes ma'am."

"Hope you settled in well and didn't cause any problems?" she chastises.

"Mum, I am not a trouble maker,'' I whine. Seriously, why does everyone think I start shit when shit always starts with me? "People just love to test my patience."

"Mmmhhmm,'' she mumbles, clearly not believing me, but oh well.

"I have to hang up now though because I need to get ready for this annoying survival training thing but I'd call you later. Love you mummy."

"Bye sweetie."

"Love you mummy,'' Jason mimicks, coming from the bathroom we both share. He lets out a yawn and stretches out his sore muscles, still in his pajamas.

"Well well, if it isn't the grim reaper. Whose soul did you steal this time?"

"Definitely not yours, Princess because it's probably dark and empty,'' he says while removing his pajama top. 

Ouch.

"I guess my soul got some pointers from yours, after all we are sharing a room so your bad energy is probably rubbing off on me." I sass. No way is he having the last laugh as long as I'm around.

Wait, I shouldn't even be entertaining this boy after our encounter at the club. He has still not apologized to me and has still refused to stop talking in codes. What could he possibly mean by 'I'm not the only one engaging in criminal activity?" He can't know about Bob and I, can he? I doubt that because most of our dates have been out of town and I haven't breathed a word to anyone about our current relationship status.

Speaking of Bob, I haven't called him or texted him since my arrival because I'm being caught up in Jason's drama…again.

Worst girlfriend ever.

"Touché, Princess, Touché."

''Just out of curiosity, what time did you even get here?'' I ask. 

He smirks with a glint in his eye. '' Are you keeping tabs on me now?''

You wish. ''No, I'm not,'' I say with an eye roll. ''I'm just surprised you got in since I was with the key all along.''

''The hotel has spare keys so I just requested for one downstairs.''

''Isn't that just for the hotel and not guests?'' I haven't lodged into a lot of hotels but I'm pretty sure the staff is not supposed to hand over the spare key to a guest.

''I bribed the receptionist,'' he shrugs like it's the most normal thing on the planet to do. ''When you have money, you can manipulate things in your favour. All it took was $1,000 and the lady was putty in my hands.''

That is so illegal and I'm pretty sure she'd be fired on the spot if word where to leave this room. 

I shake my head. ''Ah, typical rich boy getting whatever he wants. Got it.'' I stand up and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth because morning breath is just disgusting. ''You know,'' I start. ''Money can't always solve your problems.''

''It has solved the ones I have thus far, so I'm in no position to complain. You understand that, don't you?'' he mocks, but I ignore him and grab my towel and toilet bag. He will not be getting a reaction out of me this fine morning. It is too early to cuss anybody out, and even though I'm not in the best of moods, I will try (key word being try) to control myself.

"So we have that Survival training thing by 9,'' he says from the bedroom. I stick my head out from the door with the toothbrush and herbal toothpaste in my mouth. ''What time is it?'' 

''It's 8:30.''

Well shit, I'm going to be late.

I close the door, rinse my mouth quickly, get my towel from my carryon box and dash to the bathroom like my ass is on fire, ignoring Jason's laughter and commentary. 

''Slow down there, Princess,'' I hear him say from the other side of the door. ''It's not like you're late or anything.''

Not late? I just have thirty minutes, which may have reduced to twenty seven minutes, to get dressed, do my hair, put on some light makeup, and pack my bag of essentials' for the day. The bag should have been packed yesterday, but I'm a big procrastinator. 

In my defense, I still get shit done, so that still gives me the confidence to continue to procrastinate.

''Shut it, Jason.'' He chuckles and I head into the shower and hop out in five minutes. With a towel wrapped around my body, I step into the bedroom which is biting cold due to the air conditioner being on full blast. Jason gives me a once over and I throw my pillow right at his forehead.

"Pervert!"

"What do you expect me to do?" he muses, eyes still raking my body. "Shut my eyes when a semi-naked woman is in front of me?"

Yes, exactly. That's what you are supposed to do.

"What I need you to do is excuse me while I get dressed." I tell him with a hand on my hip.

He folds his arms and rests his head on the headboard. "I like the view from here though."

This is aggravating.

"What do I need to do to get you to leave?" I question with impatience. The clock is ticking and he's wasting my time while he's already dressed for the day in the required outfit. His backpack is at the foot of his bed and he's sporting a shit-eating grin that I really want to slap off. 

"Well you could get down on your knees and..."

"What the actual fuck is your problem?"

"Okay fine, I'd leave if you promise me something.''

''Which is?''

''You'd hand over your stash of Maltesers.''

''How did you know I have a stash?'' Maltesers are my favourite brand of chocolates. They're shaped into circular, chocolate balls and melt in your mouth immediately you taste it. Thinking of the chocolate-y, milky goodness is making me have a foodgasm already.

How does he know I have it? I haven't advertised it to anybody and for good reason.

I do not like to share my confectionaries.

''Saw it poking out of your luggage yesterday when you were unpacking.'' Our bags were dropped off by the concierge yesterday and we got right into unpacking. It makes sense that he'd have been able to see it.

''No, you're not having it.''

''Well, it looks like I'm staying put then.'' He makes a twirling motion with his forefinger. ''How about you do a little twirl for me, doll and maybe bend over.'' He says in a fake British accent.

I think not.

''I do not have time for this nonsense,'' I whine. ''Grande will go off on me if I'm late.'' Principal Grande is strict, rigid, and an always-follow-the-rules type of person. 9:00am means 9:00am in his dictionary, not a second or minute less. Once, he personally handed out detention slips to some tardy students and made sure they actually had the detention in his office.

He stretches out his hands. ''Hand it over.''

''You know what?'' I walk over to my bed and open my luggage forcefully. ''Here,'' I toss him the satchel with the Maltesers bars. ''It's all yours, now leave.'' I point towards the door.

My poor babies will be sorely missed.

"Glad doing business with you, Jones. Meet you downstairs.'' On that final note, he winks and then leaves. I breathe a sigh of relief and check the clock on the wall. 

''Shit.''