The Bad Bae Stole My Bra - Season 1 - Episode 80

6 years ago

The Bad Bae Stole My Bra - Season 1 - Episode 80

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“But what about our fun day together, k---y? Aren’t you looking forward to that? I assure you it will be much more fun than sleeping,” Alec winks at me. Why do I have the feeling he’s making some kind of sexual
innuendo? Probably because he is.

“I don’t know what your problem is but I bet it’s hard to pronounce,” I mutter under my breath, before turning to Alec with a huff. It’s not like I’m going to get anymore
sleep anyway. “Fine,” I announce, “You can come over,
but I’m warning you I feel like crap- so this day is going to be anything but productive.” I didn’t mean for it to come out like that…oh gosh, I just fed Alec’s perverted
mind even more.

“You just crushed my hopes and dreams k---y. I thought we’d get a lot done today,” Alec wriggles his eyebrows.

Yup, definitely making sexual innuendos. Creep. I say nothing in reply, just stick out my tongue and slam the window.

The epitome of maturity right here. Without
looking back, I know that he’s smirking victoriously: I can practically feel the pride radiating off him. Smug grasshole.

I roll my eyes and head over to the bathroom
to brush my teeth again. I don’t want Alec to know that I practically have a moss mouth.

Why do I care what Alec thinks? Good question, inner self.

After brushing my teeth, I head downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing my temples and sU-Cking on another throat lozenge.

I hate being ill. Heck, I’d rather be in
school than sat at home all day feeling like this, and that’s saying something considering today’s lessons were meant to be Maths, Geography and Chemistry, amongst
a few others.

I stick the kettle on for my mocha, rubbing
the skin under my eyes as though I can make the huge bags there disappear.

I hardly got any sleep last night
because of that stupid headache that’s been killing me all morning.

The aspirin has taken the edge off of it, but it’s still prominently there.

Just as I’m pouring the water into my favourite mug, the doorbell rings.

He’s here. What he thinks we’re going to
be doing all day is a mystery to me, because I don’t really feel up to anything apart from sleeping at the moment.

But whatever: let him think that we’re going to be having fun.

He’ll soon realise that he’s sadly mistaken. I pad over to the front door and open it to find Alec standing there in all of his healthy glory. His smirk is mouth-watering, and
he wears a simple black top and jeans that look like they’re just off the runway when modelled by him.

I scowl at him jealously, sniffing a little. I look like some fifth grade hippie in comparison.

“Wow,” Alec muses, “You look even worse close up.”

I silently glare at him, stepping aside as he barges his way into my house.

Why am I letting him in again? I
must be mad. He looks around for a second, his
expression folded into a slight frown as he scans around my house.

Suddenly I feel quite self-conscious of Jack’s
toys scattered around in the lounge, and the used cereal bowls waiting in the sink.

His house is kind of spotless in
comparison.

“This is weird,” He finally comments, “You’re house is like
the backwards layout of mine.”

I shrug, leading him into the lounge. “I’ve been living here
longer though, so I win.”