Chapter 2 : Day Two: Rhonda's bed~
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 6|
Background: Font color:
Welcome to the second chapter of Lolita... ! I'd greatly appreciate reviews, and I hope you enjoy it!
Another delicious chapter image by the wunderbar Lubi [silv3r_ic3] over at TDA!
Johnny Graves and Lorcan Chrystabelle ~
So apparently that whole karmic crap of ‘visualising your goal’ doesn’t work. Because I visualised my bed for the whole of Saturday and you know what? I ended up sleeping in Rhonda’s.
Fortunately there was no awkward mind-torture about how I got there this time. We got back from Hogsmeade (read: HONEYDUKES) at five ‘o’ clock and took our hoards of chocolate, candy and chocolate into the dorm, whereupon the three of us collapsed onto my bed and ate until we threw up.
Well, I made it to the bathroom before I actually threw up, but there was a ton of honey and caramel and sugar and strawberry filling and nougat and marshmallow and oh yeah, CHOCOLATE, on my bed sheets … in fact if something wasn’t done within twenty four hours we’d have rats.
And not one of us could remember a safe cleaning spell.
So I reluctantly slept in Rhonda’s bed, because it’s right next to mine and I could gaze at my own semi-caramelized pillows with love as I fell asleep.
“Hey Rhonda, can I borrow your eyeliner?”
Why oh why are our dorm-mates so stupid? The curtains were torn apart and I blearily opened my eyes to glare into the face of Lily Potter. She cocked her head to one side and gave me a ‘what-the-hell’ look.
“I wondered where you were. You know, there’s half a candy store on your bed, Darla.” she pointed out sweetly, gesturing to the fermenting mess on my sheets. “You might want to do something about that before Noah gets back from the hospital wing and starts shrieking about her diabetes.”
Lily’s a fine roommate when she isn’t waking up at seven am on a Sunday. Noah Letorra is also a competent roommate because she never gets out of bed before noon, only she has diabetes and will scream the house down if you so much as eat a lollipop in front of her. Apparently sugar can pass through the air.
“I am aware of the chocolate on my bed, Lily.” I managed, burying my head beneath my borrowed-from-Lolita cushion. “Just take Darla’s eyeliner and take the light away.”
“Whatever.” she shrugged, yanking the curtains closed again and vanishing into the bathroom to locate Rhonda’s makeup bag. I couldn’t get back to sleep.
I’d been dreaming about waking up in Graves’ bed. It was really starting to gnaw away at my brain that I had been lying vulnerable and wasted in my arch-enemy’s bed… I mean, surely if I was even quasi-sober enough to close all the curtains I wouldn’t have actually fallen asleep there. And if the curtains weren’t closed then someone closed them and his dorm-mates probably saw me lying there.
Putting aside all really scary thoughts, that still left me with the possibility that the four other boys in his dormitory knew I slept in his bed. And they weren’t exactly going to be discreet on my behalf about it. So by all rights, when I descended the stairs into the common room this morning… I may be met with a room full of ‘OH MY GOD YOU SLEPT WITH JOHNNY GRAVES NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN OUTSIDER’.
I was going to be spurned by society.
The whole school would know. The portraits are like an old women’s knitting circle, they’d spread it faster than wildfire. I’d probably have to do the walk of shame to McGonagall’s office and be yelled at and given detention… oh my god what if the House Elves found out and refused to feed me?!
And the whole time Graves would be standing off to one side laughing his ass off.
I screamed involuntarily and sat bolt-upright, practically shoving Rhonda off the bed. My scream triggered a chain reaction; Rhonda screamed as she was dragged out of her peaceful slumber to clutch her sheets so as not to fall, Lily, who had been sitting on her own bed applying eyeliner, jumped and screamed, and Lolita, walking through the door laden with bagels and a jug of orange juice, joined the choir just for the hell of it.
I was suddenly on the receiving end of three glares demanding explanations. “Uh… I had a bad dream.” I attempted lamely. “About… zombies.”
“Mimosas will make it all better!” Lolita sang, flouncing across the room and putting the bagels and OJ on the table between mine and Rhonda’s beds. As we sat up, both a little shaken (Rhonda was glaring at me), Lo hurried back around to her own bed and fished four champagne flutes (don’t even ask) out of her suitcase.
“As long as there isn’t any champagne in it, and I will not be eating a bagel.” I yawned, shoving them away from me. “I still feel sick from last night.”
Lolita perched on a clean part of my bed and started pouring the orange juice. Lily joined us, still drawing a line around her pretty brown eyes. It suddenly struck me as odd that Lolita was actually out of bed, never mind having been up long enough to go down to the Great Hall and bring us breakfast.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Five past ten. “Is it your birthday?” I asked Rhonda, slightly confused.
She bit into a bagel and shrugged one shoulder. “Nope. Why the breakfast in bed, Lo? Do you need something? Darla’s lungs are healthier than mine.” she added for good measure. “But if you’re dying you can have my stomach. I figure that having it removed and taking injections every day instead of eating will make me thinner.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what’s not making you thinner? That bagel.” I said, snatching it off her and tossing it onto my bed. Well, it was already covered in dried caramel. A little bread and butter can’t hurt anything.
“Well seeing as you were wailing pitifully in your sleep and cursing me to the four corners of hell and back,” Lolita explained, handing Rhonda another bagel, “I figured you were still freaking out about you-know-who. So I figured you might as well enjoy your Sunday by not having to face him and then sort it all out in double Potions tomorrow.”
On one level it made me feel better. On the other it reminded me that I had two hours of working over a cauldron of flammable liquids with Graves on Monday morning. My stomach churned. I think I may have even turned a little green, because Lolita’s face creased into a worried expression.
“You’re making too big of a deal of this. Didn’t you see him yesterday on your way into the common room?” she pointed out.
I nodded, not trusting myself to open my mouth incase I threw up.
“And didn’t you also say that he didn’t act at all unusual?” she pressed, gesturing cheerfully with her bagel. I tried not to focus on it. The sight of butter lathered thickly onto bread was making me-
Clasping a hand over my mouth I kicked Rhonda’s covers aside, shoved my mimosa into Lily’s outstretched hand and staggered into the bathroom, where I threw up the remains of last night’s chocolate feast. Ugh. I hate throwing up. But I have a really low tolerance level for chocolate and yesterday I needed comforting.
I heard the dormitory door open while I was cleaning myself up.
“Hey, have you guys seen Darla?”
Sounded like Minnie. I couldn’t be sure, I was too busy trying to talk myself out of throwing up again. I could only pray that my friends would be discreet so that the whole house wouldn’t think I had some kind of bulimia or something.
“She’s throwing up in the bathroom.”
“Oh. Well when she’s done, tell her Johnny Graves wants to see her. He’s in the common room.”
I swear on the life of Godric Gryffindor, I almost fainted. And thus begins the torture. Realising that there was really nothing left in my stomach to throw back up, I straightened my pyjama shirt and stalked back out in time to see some second year close the dormitory door again.
My wingman was smiling at me. “Well it was a nice plan while it lasted, but I guess you can’t avoid him all day after all.” she sighed, sounding far too happy about this. “Looks like you’re going to have to go down and talk to him.”
“Just… what’s going on here?” Lily asked, looking between us with a nonplussed expression. “Why does Johnny Graves want to see you? And why are you avoiding him? And what’s freaking you out so much that you’re being sick?”
I opened my mouth to concoct some genius lie. Tragically, my faithful wingman got there before me. “She woke up in his bed yesterday morning.”
I hit her over the head with a pillow. “Seriously, what the hell? Can you stop telling people these things?! Lily, this is an extremely delicate situation.” I began desperately. “I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t tell people that… that I…”
“Calm down Darla.” Lily smiled, the only comforting person in the room. “I won’t tell anyone. But… why is this stressing you out so much? Was he in bed with you?”
“No.” I sighed. “But he was waiting outside the curtain when I woke up.”
The door swung open again behind me and the second-year re-entered, looking a little frustrated at being used as a messenger. “Darla, Graves said he did warn you not to eat so much chocolate, and that you need to hurry up and get dressed because he’s getting a little bored of waiting for you to finish trying to make yourself pretty when no amount of makeup will stop you from looking like a mountain troll.” she recited, bored.
“Tell him to go fu-”
“She’ll only be a minute.” Lolita interrupted, offering the girl a bagel. “Tell him she’ll be right there.”
Like hell I was. I was never leaving this room. Ever. Plan Hibernation was officially now in effect, and there was nothing Lolita Greengrass could say that was going to change my mind.
“If you don’t go I’ll be forced to back up his claims that you slept with him.”
I grabbed the nearest available clothes (which happened to be a pair of Lily’s too-small jeans, one of Rhonda’s too-big t-shirts and the closest pair of shoes. Considering that the four of us are basically the same size, I too wondered why I felt suffocated on the bottom and naked on top) and pointed to my hair. “Bedhead working today?”
“You look like a stick of broccoli.”
No points for guessing who offered that. Lily flung her hairbrush at me and once I was vaguely sure that I didn't look like a vegetable, I allowed my legs (which were evidently considerably braver than my brain) to walk me out of the safe dormitory and toward my doom.
Other Similar Stories
Two Pairs of...