Addison's P.O.V:
How could I forget to put on something warm?
It is really cold out here.
I step on the front porch of the house and push the button that is the doorbell.
I waited, and waited, and waited, and... what do you think is next?
Waited, right?
Wrong.
I push the doorbell again and after a few minutes, and when I was finally sure that there was no one in the house, I walked over to the flower pots.
"3rd pot from the right," I whispered to myself as I fished the spare house key from the plant in that pot.
I unlocked the door and stepped into the extremely and unusually quiet house.
After closing the door behind me, I walked over to the living room and place the document on the coffee table.
"They can't miss it here, " I mumbled to myself and then noticed a bright neon green sticky note on the corner of the coffee table.
Dear Addison,
We were informed that you are coming over by your parents. Leroy is at a party and we have Annabelle with us. Please do me a favor and see if Leroy left the pool lights on again. That boy just never learns. Thank you so much in advance Addison.
Love,
Aisha.
The beloved Aisha Rider.
I mean, she is delightful.
Her son on the other hand...
I walked to the back where the pool was and it was freezing.
It must be a solid 10°C out here.
I walked to the edge of the pool and crouched down.
Dipping my hand in the water, I started looking for the switch on the wall of the pool.
The water was colder than everything else.
It was so sad how well Aisha knew her son at home but nothing about his habits outside of home.
"Here you are you goddamn-" I said but cut myself short when I felt someone shove me.
A shriek tore through the air as I plunged into the water.
Once I finally came up for air, I was graced by the most annoying, most obnoxious noise known to human, animal and plant kind.
Leroy's laughter.
I brushed the hair out of my face and glared at him.
Then everything else seemed to just fall into place. He deliberately ignored the doorbell knowing it was me, left that note on the table and left the pool lights on just for this.
That diabolical, evil, egomaniac, self-centered, obnoxious, annoying, son of a...
"Need a hand?" he chuckled, disrupting my trail of thought. If I accept, he'll probably let go of my hand and let me fall in the water again.
"I'd rather get frostbite," I said coldly and hopped out of the freezing water.
I avoided any eye contact and started walking away to get away from this maniac.
"Hey," he said as he grabbed a hold of my elbow, stopping me in my tracks, "You're going to walk all the way back home like that?" he raised a questioning brow.
"What choice do I have?" I asked him incredulously.
All he did in response was give me a cheeky smile.
I furrowed my brows, trying to decipher what that smile meant.
The next thing I knew, I was being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes!
"What the fuck Rider?! Put me down!" I screech and kick my legs, trying to make myself heavier in his arms.
I guess it didn't work seeing that he was still walking into the house.
He started his way upstairs and it felt uncomfortable on his shoulder.
I tried to make out where he was taking me but the blood rushing to my head wasn't allowing me to think straight.
He continued walking and my vision blackened a little.
"Rider, put me down," I said firmly and he just continued walking as if he hadn't heard me.
He started climbing the stairs and I started feeling sick.
My vision blackened slightly and an obnoxious ring in my ear started as he continued walking. I even wished he could have walked faster if not just put me down.
I couldn't tell which door he opened. All I saw was him kicking the door closed and the room get brighter as if he had jut flicked the lights on.
He laid me on a bed and I tried shaking the darkness out of my eyes. Before that happened, I felt weight next to me on the bed.
Oh no....
The darkness in my eyes had gone and the ringing in my ears had finally stopped.
He was on the bed next to me, on his hands and knees, looking at me intently.
I was breathing hard when he got on his knees alone and stripped his now wet shirt then raised his hand to...
Pat my head?
He grinned at me, "You look cute when you're scared," he said out of the blue, making me pout right after.
What is with people saying that I look cute when I'm scared?
He got off the bed and walked into his walk in yelling a 'don't escape' over his shoulder.
I looked around and made it a point to get off the bed because all my clothes were still wet.
The room was unbelievably neat.
Everything seemed like it was where it was supposed to be.
The books were immaculately arranged on the shelves, spine facing me, and there was not a single piece of clothing was left out of his walk-in closet.
The curtains seemed perfect and the carpet under my feet was impeccably clean.
I turned around and a guitar stared back at me.
He plays?
I have never in all my years with him seen him touch an instrument. It wasn't even an electric guitar. It was in perfect condition and beautifully polished.
It seemed old, but at the same time new. I carefully walked up to it and grazed a finger over the wood, probably mahogany, as if trying to make sure the thing was real and not just a hologram or something.
"In case, you were wondering, that is mine," his voice startled me and I snapped my head back to meet his amused blue eyes.
"You know how to play this or is it just here for decoration and display?" I enquired, being more serious than ever.
That is very peculiar. I have only ever seen him touch a violin and play it horribly in the second grade.
"I do know how to play it, and a few other instruments too," he gives me a small smile.
"When the hell did you learn all that?" I asked, criticism dripping from my voice.
"Doesn't really matter, take these and change," he held out a sweatshirt to me and I raised a questioning brow at him.
Why was he being nice to me?
He watched for a moment and realization hit him.
"Oh," he shoved the sweatshirt into my grasp and jogged into the closet once more.
My attention immediately diverts from him to his room again.
Huh, so this is the lion's den.
This is where almost half the girls at school lose their virginity. My curiosity peeks and I quickly and quietly start poking around.
I was looking for anything that would look bad for his reputation, not that it wasn't already bad.
Still, I didn't find anything unusual. To be completely honest with myself and everyone out there, I was utterly disappointed.
I didn't find any bras, panties, or even condoms hidden in any place. It was completely clean.
There was even a frikin' Bible on his study desk.
"Here," he says to me and I stop staring at the Bible. I turn to him and he held out a pair of his shorts to me.
He then led me to his bathroom and shoved the shorts in my hands too.
"Change," he closed the door and left me to have some privacy.
Again, why was he being nice to me?
He wasn't flirting with me this time, he was just being the genuine… nice.
I shook the clothes, checked the pockets, just to be sure not to wear it while it had something in them.
They seemed okay and the pockets were empty. They also smelt like lavender and there was undoubtably a hint of vanilla as well.
I change into them, rolling the waist of the short a few times because of the size of the damned thing.
I wasn't scratching myself everywhere, so that meant the clothes didn't have itching powder either.
Relieved, I moved to the door and stopped turning the door knob at the sound of a single guitar strum.
I made my movements quieter and much, much slower.
He was sitting on his bed and had his back to me. He had never heard me come out of the bathroom.
I stayed still. Not making a sound. Just watched him.
He took his time tuning the guitar. I waited patiently. After some time, he started playing.
He played Mercy by Shawn Mendes fingerstyle for a while. The notes were perfectly executed and there was not a single mistake.
After the chorus part of the fingerstyle, he started playing the acoustic version.
Was he gonna sing?
I braced myself for the worst and covered my ears as he actually started singing. What caught me off guard was the fact that his singing voice wasn't half as annoying as his speaking voice.
I slowly uncovered my ears and listened. His voice wasn't half as bad as I expected his voice to be. He was pretty good if you ask me.
What really caught my attention wasn't really his voice though. I couldn't help but notice the way he sang. It was full of… emotion.
"…I stand, a hundred feet, but I fall when I'm around you…" he sang each word with the right variation in tone and pitch.
It almost sounded like he was hurting.
"… Please have mercy on me, take it easy on my soul…" or was he actually hurting?
"… Even though you don't mean to hurt me…" did someone really break his heart?
"… You keep tearing me apart…" there was someone he had eyes for?
His voice sharpened as he continued. He was playing with an unwavering concentration that I would actually want while doing my homework.
"… I'd drive, through the night, just to be near you baby…" just to be near… who?
I have never thought he would want a relationship. He just seemed too… sneaky and sex-driven to be in a relationship in my point of view.
"… Would you please have mercy on me?" he could actually move a crowd if he ever sang in public.
"… I'm a puppet on your string…" that line just increased my curiosity.
"… And even though you've got good intentions…" so the girl was clueless about all this?
"… I need you to set me free…" he had not told her about this.
'He might not even be having a 'crush' Addie. Put a sock in it.' My subconscious, I call her Rory, piped in and I actually listened to her for once.
"… Consuming all the air inside my lungs…" he might just be singing spontaneously and have no reason for singing.
"… Ripping all the skin from off my bones…" like the way they do in musicals.
"… I'm prepared to sacrifice my life…" or maybe that's the way he was taught to sing.
"… I would gladly do it twice…" this line convinced me that all my assumptions are just assumptions-that he was actually having feelings for someone who is completely clueless about it.
And the power in his voice, in this single line is what told me that. It's what said that he wanted her so bad.
"… I'm begging you for mercy…" his voice became dramatically yet captivatingly softer.
"… Mercy…" he had actually convinced me that he was begging for mercy.
"… On my heart…" anyone in my place would be convinced at this point.
He finished and took a deep breath.