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Hide and Seek by Mistress
Chapter 13 : A Bouquet of Break
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 63

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I knew they wanted to prod and figure out what happened between Oliver and me, but when I shoved my things into a bedroom and returned to the second floor lounge with the girls they said nothing. I sank into a large poufy gray sofa and stared around at the familiar space.

It was the largest lounge on that floor with three sofas and a TV even Fred and George couldn’t ignore. We spent most of our time in there when we were at Katie’s, something that was obvious once the hostess herself tossed our usual blankets over and spread out the sweets. Angelina leaned over the coffee table and scooped out some ice cream while Alicia bent upside down over another sofa.

“So shall the overused dramatic slumber party commence?” Katie said, laughing and casting a bit of a sideways glare in my direction. She was holding a box of nail polish. “What colors do you think, ladies? I’ll play spa owner today.”

“We really should go to a spa sometime,” Alicia said offhandedly, staring at the various colors. “Really, I have extra money this summer. Hmm, I think this pink looks nice.” It was a carnation pink with a shiny silver top. She unscrewed it and stuck her left hand out toward the table.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Katie replied as Angelina stared into the box. “I’ve wanted to go to a spa for the longest time. I’m sure George would recommend it since we’ve both been so stressed lately.”

Angelina bit her lip and picked a white to paint her tips. “I would be on board for that. What do you think, Jane? Spa sometime?”

“That sounds nice,” I said, not really involved in the conversation. “We all could use a spa day sometime.” Katie leaned over with the box and I stared at the pinks and blues and grays before me. I usually painted my nails a pristine pink, but I wasn’t feeling very pink at the moment. I felt more, pessimistic. I grabbed a dark purple, something not very Jane-esque, and opened it. Katie stared for a minute and then retreated to her spot across the room with her own bottle of shimmery red.

“So,” the hostess said in an obvious attempt to keep the mood light and upbeat, “I’ve been through at least thirty wedding magazines this week.”

“Find anything?” Angelina blew on her nails quickly. “I know you said something about a halter dress…are you going to go out looking soon?”

“I probably will after you lot leave in a week or so,” she replied tactfully. “I know what cut I want so I’ll probably go down to London with Mum. She’s been looking forward to this day forever…mother/daughter shopping for the wedding.”

I stopped painting my nails the dark purple for a few minutes to watch the grin on Katie’s face. I didn’t say anything, but it tugged at my stomach muscles so much it nearly made me nauseous. The thought of shopping for a wedding dress without my mother was something—well, I’d never thought of it before. Now I was.

So Katie was not only in a healthy, loving relationship where they didn’t scream and throw things at each other, but she also had the pleasure of going wedding dress shopping with her mother.

Well, la dee sodding da. Wasn’t she just the luckiest bleeding girl on the face of the planet?

I sighed. This was not Katie’s fault. Katie was happy and I should have been happy for her. Yes, I was very happy indeed for her perfect fucking life. Another sigh. Calm down. She didn’t kill my mum and she didn’t break Oliver and me up. What really did? Who knew?

I stared down at my nails. They looked horrible so I put another coat on. The dark purple clashed horrible with my outfit and skin tone, but not with my mood so I continued. I saw Alicia watching me out of the corner of her eye.

“We’d like to get married here of course,” Katie went on, the smile now transformed into a full-fledged beam. “We have such a large garden with all those flowers—pity for it to go to waste since I don’t have any siblings. I was thinking white chairs and white linens with punches of pink and green everywhere. I saw it in some pictures. What do you lot think?”

“Beautiful,” Angelina said. “Pink and green go so well together. It would look beautiful anywhere, but let’s face it, Kait, we’ve all been in your garden and it’s enormous. It’s perfect.”

Katie squealed. “I know it is! I’ve asked George about it and he tells me he’s indifferent so I suppose I’ll call the shot on that as well.”

“What does George want then?” Alicia asked, taking her eyes off me and focusing on her nail painting.

“Not really sure actually.” Katie wrinkled her nose and blotted off some paint. “He wants a wedding. He wants to marry me. I think he likes white for the linens. I’m not really sure. Oh, he said something about the men weren’t wearing pink ties. I remember that.”

“Is that really all?”

She nodded. “He just must not be a wedding sort of person.”

“He should still contribute so you don’t have to do everything,” Angelina added. “But he loves you and you can communicate well so it doesn’t matter at this point. Just mention it or something.”

Katie nodded again. “Good idea. I’ll mention it and see if he really does have any preferences. I think Molly does, but I don’t think she’s said anything because my parents have offered to pay for it.”

The girls shrugged. I said nothing. I watched Katie with envy and tried not to think about what Oliver would look like in a tux. I shouldn’t have cared what Oliver looked like, but he looked handsome and cheerful in my mind. That infuriated me. He was such a jerk, how dare he look dishy in my mind!

There was one candle lit in the room a few hours later and I managed not to talk about anything for that entire period of time. My nails were a shiny purple to contrast the other girls. We curled up on our respective couches and I used my arm as a pillow, staring at the flickering flame of the candle.

“So what now?” asked Alicia. “Any other slumber party details we can accomplish before I fall asleep?” She yawned.

“Yes, there is.” Angelina sat up in the darkness, a scowl on her pretty face. “Girl talk.”

“What sort?” Katie asked. “We can gossip about someone—you know, I just saw Mandy Brocklehurst the other day. She lives in London. I had no idea.”

“I’m not going to gossip,” said Ang. She stared at me and I knew where she was going. I was actually surprised it took her that long. “Jane, what happened?

The other two were silent. I licked my lips because they were chapped and I wanted to avoid it. I wanted to slip out of the room quietly and hide in the bathroom so I didn’t have to go over what happened. It was silly, of course. These girls were my best friends. I just felt unrelatable. They were all in such amazing relationships. I had been in a rubbish relationship.

“Just out with it,” said Alicia. “You’ve been keeping it in too long and whether or not you want to tell us we’re going to get it out of you. At least tell us what it was about.”

“He’s a bleeding jerk, that’s what it’s about,” I muttered, eyes cast down at the floor. I wanted to get up and walk around. To pace—do anything but sit there with their own eyes on me. “It’s not a big deal. We just had a big row about everything—I don’t even remember how it started. A bunch of shit was said. How I’m inconsiderate and selfish or something and, well, all that stuff from the Cup was never really resolved, you know?” I paused, waiting for them to cut me off but they didn’t. “It just didn’t work. He said some mean things. I said some mean things. I think I may have thrown something. Should have thrown the flowers.”

“Flowers?” Katie said.

I explained about the dates with other women and they gaped at me, thunderstruck. “Yeah. It’s just a big mess. We’re too different. Maybe someday we can be friends like Roger and me are.”

“You’re friends with Dodger again?” Alicia raised a brow.

“Yeah. We had lunch the other day. He cares about me, which is nice. He’s worried though, which I have no idea why. I’m obviously fine. I’m so fine I even cleaned my room and made eggs the other day.” I grinned.

Angelina snorted. “We all deal with breakups different ways,” she said. “You can be friends with Dodger because you didn’t have deep feelings for him.”

“And as for the cleaning,” Alicia cut in. “Jane, that doesn’t mean you’re fine. That means you’re so far from fine.”

“Look,” I said a little aggressively, “I’m okay. I’m here. I’m painting my nails. I’m listening to Katie talk about wedding stuff. I’m fine.” I stood up. “I have to use the loo quick—I’ll be right back.”

After I walked out of the door I didn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, I sank down beside it and pressed the back of my head to the wood. I didn’t want to be in there, hounded by them like prey. I just didn’t want to talk about it. I hadn’t even told Dad, but that might have been to protect Oliver’s blood. Why did I even want to protect his blood? I should have just told.

I suppose I just wanted the girls to understand I was not some broken female being tormented by a silly breakup. It was hardly a real relationship anyway. We just snogged and saw each other every so often.

“I have to,” I heard Angelina say through the door. “Obviously she’s not telling us everything that happened. I’m going to do it tomorrow.”

Raising a brow, I pressed my ear against the keyhole.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked quietly. “You might get more than you bargained for.”

“What, do you think Oliver won’t tell me? I know him better than that.” She paused. “Something bad happened. I’m going to figure out what it is. It’s obvious she’s in fits of denial about being okay. She’s so far from okay—purple nail polish? Jane hates purple. This is bad.”

I rolled my eyes. Angelina was always so overdramatic.

“I can’t believe it.”

“I know. It was just everything piling up from what I get out of it. Jane’s dad, that whole Dodger/Bridget mess, money, everything. God, those two must be impossible at communicating.”

“It can’t be over, can it?”

“From the looks of it, it seems over. Can’t be sure, though, especially with those two. They seem…I don’t know…perfect together.”

“How was he?”

“Cant’ tell. He has that poker face no one can call. His eyes were puffy though.”

“Should we wake her then?”

I was already awake since they chose outside of my bedroom to have the highly personal conversation about me. I rolled over and put a pillow over my head to make it seem as if I was sleeping soundly.

“Jane?” Katie stuck her head through the door and I heard it creek. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm?” I mumbled, lifting the pillow off and staring at the three girls. Angelina was fully dressed and even had shoes on. I did not question it.

“You awake?”

I shrugged into the sheets. “I suppose I should be considering you lot are making so much noise this early, eh?”

They didn’t reply.

“I’m bleeding up. Can I get dressed and meet you downstairs for breakfast?”

“We’ll be in the living room on the first floor,” said Katie. “I’m expecting a letter from George in the mail today.” She smiled and closed the door behind her.

I lugged myself out of bed, completely exhausted because I barely slept. I wasn’t even thinking about Oliver, I was just thinking. My body ached as I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank. It was like a chore. Suddenly I wasn’t moving a thousand miles per hour, I was moving negative two thousand. I felt lethargic.

I pulled my hair up (something I hadn’t done in a while) and stared in the mirror. Blimey, I looked horrible. Like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I felt fine, though, besides the minor aches and fatigue. I was ready to move back out into the world and kick its arse.

The girls were exactly where Katie said. They had a spread of breakfast goods out on the living room table—bread and jam, croissants, eggs, bacon, and even pancakes. I grabbed some bread and spread strawberry jam over it before sinking into a plush chair by the television set. There were only a few in Katie’s massive house and this one was by far the biggest. She used to have none at all until she went to Alicia’s years ago and became addicted to the Quidditch Network. That was my kind of network.

But not for now. I was done with Quidditch for a while.

At the moment a cheesy soap opera was on with overacting and plots that went for days. I smiled, took a bite of my breakfast, and concentrated on who slept with whom and why someone had a baby without sleeping with anyone.

“You should invite Quidditch players to your wedding,” Alicia said offhandedly, cutting up pancakes. “They’re always so dishy.”

“I wouldn’t date anyone other than a Quidditch player,” said Ang. “No offense, of course, ‘Licia. I just fancy them.”

“None taken. As long as my boy knows about the game I’m satisfied.”

“No Henrik, then?” Katie smiled, brushing her sandy brown hair from her face.

“No Henrik,” she replied confidently. “I’m quite content with Lee. I wonder what he’s up to anyway.”

“Yeah, when are we inviting the boys, Katie?” Angelina asked.

My gut exploded again. The boys. Plural. There would be boys and those three would be sucking face with the three boys and holy Merlin I knew how it was to be Alicia. I stared hard at the television, trying to drown them out. It was no good. Not even Mrs. Sleeps-With-Her-Daughter’s-Fiance could keep my attention.

“I’m thinking for tomorrow. We keep the rest of the day for relaxation because they just muck everything up, you know?” Katie grinned.

Okay, she slept with her daughter’s fiancé. He tried to cover it up by pretending he had a baby pre-engagement—who was that lady? I had no idea. It was too complicated to hold my attention.

“I’m glad. I can’t wait to see Fred.” Angelina did a little cheer from her seat and I wanted to hit her.

But I was fine anyway. I could deal with it. I’d just get a new bloke—like bleeding who? Even Roger pointed out I knew no one else. Maybe I’d owl Flint and ask for a date.

There was a pecking at the window and Katie squealed before getting up and rushing over to pull open the window. “Here it is!” she cried, taking a stack of envelopes. “Got my letter from George.” She walked back toward her seat. “Eugh, also got a bill. I hate them, I’ll just give it to Mum. Here’s another wedding magazine I ordered. Oh! Quidditch Weekly came today! I love this—oh my god.”

“Is it the half-naked issue because that’s my favorite,” said Alicia. “Mind you if Bastian’s in there I don’t care to look at that page. But by all means give me the others.”

Katie stood, something obviously metaphorically lodged in her throat, and flipped a few pages in the magazine. I turned and raised a brow at her insanity. “I—well, okay.” Then she turned on heel and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. The door slammed.

“How strange,” I mumbled. “Are there naked men in Quidditch Weekly?” I chuckled at this.

“Ang!” Katie cried from the kitchen.

Angelina, visibly confused, stood slowly and walked into the kitchen. I heard her utter a loud “shit” over the commercials.

“Erm, Alicia can you come see this stain in here?” Ang called.

Alicia shot me a strange look before joining them and her expression of choice was a gasp.

Frustrated, I stood, tossed my bread onto the coffee table, and marched into the kitchen. I found the three of them huddled over the Quidditch Weekly with petrified expressions on their faces. None of them moved as I ripped the magazine from their hands, turned, and marched back into the living room.

“Jane, wait!” Alicia said, nearly tripping over herself to follow me. “Why don’t you just—well, don’t read it, okay?”

“No.” I smiled cheerfully and read the subtitles on the cover. I knew right when my eyes scanned the “Quidditch’s Most Eligible Bachelors” what the magazine held. Groaning, I flipped to the center of the book to see the list of the most eligible bachelors in Quidditch. There was a whole section of Quidditch Superstars like Bastian (Alicia looked away) and various dishy members of the Magpies, Tornadoes, Finches, etc. I stared for a few minutes because it was only right. After there was a section of moderately starred players and I flipped through them to get to the rookies. Oh, I knew what was coming, which was why my jaw was clenched tight and the girls hovered around me like flies.

Rookie Number Two: Oliver Wood (Puddlemere Keeper)

(there was a shirtless picture of Oliver under this, posing next to a broom with his abdomen flexed and dirt rubbed on his chest)

(This bloke is only second because he hasn’t played a game)

Thanks to his recent breakup, Puddlemere’s Oliver Wood is now on the market for any girl that thinks she is worthy to deal with this feisty masculine Keeper. Mr. Wood attended Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and graduated only last June. He secured the spot with Puddlemere after the Quidditch Final, where he Captained his team to not only a Cup but also offers from scouts for every single player.

Mr. Wood is the son of another Quidditch sensation out of the Finches and is very aggressive with what he believes in. He is the obvious desire of many women throughout the Quidditch world and has been seen on at least one date since his breakup. He has been highly sought after on the pitch with nearly thirty ladies showing up to ask him on dates the last couple days of practice. It has not been confirmed whether he accepted any offers.

Oliver Wood has a stomach a woman could eat off of and a thick Scottish drawl. He plays his opening game for Puddlemere in about a month and is expected to be one of the next stars of the game. Newly single has not proved to be a challenge for Mr. Wood and he is expected to do several more photoshoots in the next few weeks.

When asked what the most appealing thing is about Oliver Wood, close personal friend Bridget Lilion said, “Definitely his ability to see through people. It took him a little longer with that ex-girlfriend of his, but he is finally all right and has moved on.” Responding to a question about whether she would pursue Mr. Wood, Bridget added, “I have to hint things could go there between us. We have a certain chemistry when together.”

So watch out ladies—if you want to snatch up rookie star Oliver Wood strike fast! That and his cocky smile and ridiculous flying moves are why he is the number two rookie most eligible bachelor in Quidditch!

I stared at the article for a full minute. I glanced at the picture with his trademark smirk and at the words about our breakup and then Bridget. I stared at those words the longest, my cheeks heating up. I could feel my entire body shake and could no longer read the words.

“Jane, look, those tabloids are bollocks,” Alicia said quickly.

Still, I said nothing. Bridget had some nerve. We only broke up a couple of days ago, but Oliver had plenty of time to pose shirtless for Quidditch Bleeding Weekly to attract even more screaming girls for a rebound fuck or someone to dump his money problems onto. I tried to take a deep breath but it wouldn’t come. I just kept looking at the dirt they probably rubbed on his body before the shoot and the “…ability to see through people” and “a certain chemistry between us”. I didn’t care who Oliver was with. I didn’t want to know, but there was no way it could be Bridget.

I hoped.

Why did I even hope? I didn’t sodding care. If he wanted to sink that stupidly low and be with an obnoxious Quidditch daughter like her, who was I to stop him? Or care for that matter?

I became aware the pages were wrinkling in my hands. My knuckles were white just thinking about it—just thinking about him.

In one motion I stood and threw the book as hard as I could. It hit the window and collapsed to the floor in a mangled heap. I turned, managed one deep breath, and left the room, slamming the front door behind me and rushing out to the fountain.

The water was cold so I stuck my head in, holding my breath and letting myself cool down before whipping back and soaking my shirt. I took another breath. I needed to calm down. He could do what he wanted now. It wasn’t my business if Bridget was a bitch and felt the need to tell all of Quidditch Weekly readership that Oliver had to see through me in order to break up with me. Oh, what a stupid little—I had to calm down.
I let my fingers glide over the surface of the water and stared up at the house. Angelina was watching me from the living room window not even trying to be discreet. I was sure she was making sure I didn’t drown myself. Where was my carefree attitude from before? Just go on with my life and make eggs and keep busy and oh my Merlin it was all rubbish.

The whole thing was rubbish. I was just pushing it back, wasn’t I? I just took all the shit I felt and shoved it onto the backburner with the other stuff I didn’t care about. Bollocks, Roger was right. I wouldn’t break, though. I was too strong for that and I didn’t care enough about Oliver for that. No, he wouldn’t get me to surrender. No way.

“Jane?” Katie poked her head out the door. “Are you all right? Do you want me to burn the magazine because I will.”

I almost smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be inside in a minute.”

Katie nodded her head and closed the door with a soft snap. I stared at it.

I had to get him out of my head. It was eating away at me—I could just picture stupid Bridget blushing and applying red lipstick as she told the report about her and Oliver’s so-called chemistry. If they had chemistry I was the Minister of Magic. Which I wasn’t, by the way. God, I could just fucking see the way she twirled her hair on one finger, probably watching Oliver doing his photoshoot. There were probably gaggles of girls all over the place, fawning over him. My god, it wasn’t like he was sent from heaven or anything. He wasn’t even that amazing. Well, his stomach was nice and his hair was really soft and his brown eyes were—BUT HE WASN’T SOME HOT MODEL OR ANYTHING.

I shook my head quickly, shooting water from my hair over the rest of my body. Quickly, I went back into the house, grabbed my wand, and dried myself. I breathed heavily and the girls watched me closely.

“What?” I said. “Should we talk about more wedding stuff? Who’s the Maid of Honor going to be anyway?”

Katie nearly choked. “The—well, I haven’t made that choice yet actually. I was thinking, well, I’m not really sure.”

I shrugged and sat back down. The magazine was gone from its crumpled place on the floor. “Just go with your gut, Katie. What do you girls think?”

Angelina made a face. “Well, all three of us have qualities that can be used for it.”

“Except it depends on whether you want it to be organized or fun or whatever,” Alicia said.

“What do you mean by that?” Ang cut in. “Am I supposed to be organized and you’re fun?”

“Well, Jane’s fun too.” Alicia smiled.

Angelina did not. “I’m fun too.”

“Yeah, okay.” She shrugged.

“Just because things are organized doesn’t mean they aren’t fun.”

Alicia nodded. “Yeah, of course. Planned croquet activities are a blast.”

“Oh, like I would plan croquet for a bachelorette party!” Ang snapped.

“Okay!” Katie cried, throwing her hands into the air. “Not now, okay? Can we just—can we not talk about that?”

“Seems like we’re not talking about a lot lately,” Angelina muttered.

“I just want to get things straight with George first, all right?” Katie looked flustered and her hair was sticking up a bit. “I’m going to owl the boys and invite them now. They’ll be here tomorrow and George and I can talk more wedding stuff.”

“Will he even want to?” Alicia said carefully.

“Hell if I know.” Katie turned and left the room and we all stared after her since it was rare to hear Katie said anything remotely offensive.

“That was productive,” Angelina said. “Jane, will you just please spit out what’s sodding wrong with you already? How are we supposed to be supportive if we don’t even know what happened?”

“Don’t know what the fuck happened?” I had no idea how my voice got that loud. “What do you mean you don’t know? Wood told you nothing when you knocked on his door this morning, eh? I find that hard to believe. Why should I believe anything, really? I should just go be best mates with Bridget and ask her all about their fucking chemistry!” I was angry again, the blood rising to my temples and out of the corner of my eye I saw Katie re-enter the room. “Why wouldn’t they have chemistry? She’s tall and leggy with her red dress and her boobs—oh, he got a big ol’ eyeful of those at the Cup, didn’t he? Well he gets to look some more—leggy, she is. And what the fuck happened to me?” I was standing again, pacing back and forth in front of the window.

“I used to be leggy, you know?” I stared down at the legs poking out of my shorts. They looked long to me. “All those comments—short skirts, dresses. I was the one with the attention. It was me. But not anymore—not like I want it, not from him. He can give all his googly-eyed attention to that blond piece of work. Clearly she’s a prostitute, I mean seriously.” They looked at me like they thought Bridget was probably not a prostitute. “I tried to be a decent girlfriend—that’s all I wanted to do. You lot are lucky! You got to see your boyfriends during the school year even for a bit. You got to see them daily and have lunch out by the lake or snog or whatever you were doing—I didn’t. So finally we’re launched into this summer, right? I’m in this relationship with this bloke I’ve hated for years and then I can’t even see him—then his parents think I’m riffraff and he doesn’t have money but he takes it out on me and I make him toast and bloody FUCK!” My chest was rising and falling so rapidly I could barely breathe and I grabbed onto the windowsill. “Did you know I unpacked his flat when he went to practice? He showed up at my door one night soaked and we slept on the sofa and guess what? Dad actually liked him, stupid prat. Dad should have seen right through him—I’m inconsiderate, am I?”

“Who’s the one going on dates with Quidditch daughters with all this money and fame that mummy just fucking LOVES to death? Not me! I wasn’t late to any dates and—oh, sorry, Jane, I forgot we were supposed to have dinner. Why don’t I just round you up some tuna? Do you even like tuna? NO? Oh, all right—why don’t you just eat the dustbunnies under the sofa?” My grip on the sill grew tighter and my arm started to shake. “He took me on a date, did you know that? We went on a date to Hogsmeade and it was stupid and formal (talking about forks and all that) and then we left and went to the Quidditch pitch.” I choked a bit. “Went to the Quidditch pitch and sat and ate our food and talked. He snogged me under the mistletoe after Roger broke up with me. We got drunk in the Astronomy Tower with red wine and he made me brownies and my fucking GOD I thought I was falling in love with him!” My back fell against the sill and I sank down to the hardwood, tears falling from my eyes and my head stung.

Someone sat down beside me. “You know what? I thought he loved me. I think he almost said it once—that he loved me. On the train. And the way he looked at me—that pompous fucking smirk and the way he looked at me. I think I might have loved him.” I choked out a loud sob, pulling my knees to my chest and closing my eyes so tight they hurt. “I think I loved Oliver. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’ve been living in this stupid dream world for the last few days—good riddance, that’s what I said. He’s a jerk and I know it and I might have loved him and—fuck. What do I do? Make eggs.”

I realized it was Alicia when she wiped a few tears from my cheeks.

“And now he’s moved on, just stripping off his clothes and dating and being a sodding PRAT! It’s so good to know I really meant that much to him. It’s very good to know. I hope he CHOKES on all the WINE he has.” I wiped some more tears and realized I was nearly hyperventilating. Alicia grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

When the tears stopped clouding my vision as much I saw Katie at my feet and Angelina on my other side. Alicia squeezed again.

I cried for a long time and Katie lit a candle in the living room and painted my toenails a fresh spring pink.

A/N: I do love being a TA during the queue closure. So you all get your fix of H&S! I finished this chapter really fast after the other one but the edits took me a while and I'm sure you can tell why, haha. Jane finally broke. It is about time. Really sorry for the downer chapter. There weren't really fun, exciting moments in this one but Jane is going through a hard time.

But the boys are back in the next chapter so look forward to that!

So please let me know what you think of what Jane finally managed to spill to her besties. She does keep a lot bottled up. Do any of you do that? I do it frequently. Only-child syndrom haha. Also, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. With this chapter I could be to 500 reviews and I can't BELIEVE it. You guys are completely amazing and your reviews make me want to write this story all the time!

Thank you! The next chap will be out in around a week, promise!

ps. What do you think about Katie in the chap image?

EDIT: If you leave a review please keep it 12+. I have recently had a few get deleted and it breaks my heart because you all work so hard on them and they really inspire me. 

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