I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [15] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

After profusely uttering words of gratitude to Jake (without him, I would probably be in an alley eating an apple that I've stolen from a stall) and kissed him on both of his cheeks. We promised to keep in touch, but since I didn't have a phone, all I could give him was my e-mail address.

Which I nearly forgot since it was a long time since I went to any cybercafé recently.

The next morning, I never thought I would have blisters from shopping in my life. Ever.

Evelyn was looking fantastic in the ungodly hour of the morning (I assume 10 a.m. was ungodly okay? Could you really blame me? We were out partying all night!) and she walked from store to store as if she was dancing to a well-rehearsed choreography.

I must admit, I was being awfully judgmental the first time I met her er...while she was kissing Brandon. The green-eyed monster could make you think such awful assumptions of a person. She was the brightest, most happy-go-lucky girl I've ever met.

Happy-go-lucky, as in when I tried to buy a plain LBD and nearly had my eyes explode in my skull just having a quick glance at the price tag...she waved it off and said, "You're on Brandon Compton's credit card!" she retorted, agog. "You could buy thirty mansions if you like!"

A mansion seemed very tempting to be purchased...very glamorous--

Suddenly I could visualize a seething Brandon, clutching his bills and crumpling them before throwing them at me as if it was covered in dirt so thick it was practically radioactive.

Bad idea.

We heaved our carrier bags into the black Mercedes which was owned by her father. Gosh, these people were so grand that I felt so out of place. Evelyn told the chauffeur very specific details about what time and when he should be back to pick us up after unloading our massive pile of shopping stuff at the hotel.

With a sinking feeling, I was dreading the thought of having to walk around and try so many clothes in less than 5 minutes. My leg bones could shatter any moment if I kept shopping. Stupid flats. Why didn't I settle myself into some Vans or Converse?

Because you were too busy ogling over some stupid high heels, Samantha.

"Here we are!" Evelyn announced, arriving in front of a small buidling that was painted white. Their window frames and door frame were in a shade of violet, and above the door was a huge sign with floral decorations that reads, 'Haven's Beauty Salon'.

"Well come on then," Evelyn said, beckoning me over. I walked inside the salon and I instantly could pick up the smell of...mixed fruits and other stuff that I didn't know about. To my left, I saw a shelf that displayed something that was called Haven's Aloe Vera Facial Scrub, Haven's Strawberry Yogurt Facial Cleanser, Haven's Pomegranate Shampoo Conditioner with Menthol.

Whatever that was.

"Evelyn!" a girl with short, blond hair with purple streaks in it exclaimed, hugging Evelyn. She looked as if she was around 25-28 maybe, and she was wearing a black low-cut shirt with a pair of faded blue jeans with a big white belt.

"Haven," she replied, hugging Haven back. "This is Samantha," she said, motioning towards me. I smiled. "Nice to meet you," I said politely. Haven beamed and anxiously, I went towards a manicure station.

God, with all of these contraptions around me, I felt as if they were operating on me. Only, I doubt that a surgeon would use curling irons to cut open somebody's chest.

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It took the whole afternoon, but I was magically transformed.

My boring, dull blond hair was cut, pulled, layered, blow-dried, curled...well, you get the picture. They offered to dye it, but I protested so much that a passer-by might thought someone was taking me into custody.

It was not just my hair. They applied a light make-up that according to Haven, would look natural, on my face that I was shocked beyond words just staring at myself in the mirror. Somehow, I had this radiant glow all over me. My eyebrows were trimmed (that was a painful experience that I don't want to share with anyone) and my eyelashes curled.

My cheeks were covered lightly in a soft pink blusher, and they coated some lipgloss over my pink lipstick. The lipgloss smelled and tasted like blueberry that I was half-tempted to lick it all of my lips.

Half-tempted.

"We're home!" sang Evelyn, a tad teasingly as she knocked on the door. The heavy door swung open, and there stood Brandon who was looking a bit tense and annoyed. "How much did you guys paid for these crap?" he spat, motioning inside where all the stuff that we got earlier was piled on the bed, the coffee table...the floors...

Evelyn shrugged and pushed her way in. "When's your flight?"

"Around 3 hours, so we have to get to the airport now Samanth--"

As if he saw me for the first time, he stopped dead mid-sentence and gave me a once-over. Flustered, I shifted my weight from one leg to another. That morning, there was still an awkward tension between us and I was trying my best to avoid him for the day until the trip to the airport, and I could tell from the mood he had this morning that he was trying to do the same.

"You look...nice," he finally said.

"Thanks," I said unsurely. As if something clicked in our minds, we hurried off inside the room. I bought a luggage earlier, but I didn't feel as if one luggage was enough. As I began loading my stuff in it (not that I've got much in my room anyway) into the luggage, I definitely realized that one luggage was simply not enough!

I probably need 10.

Or 16.

I forced all of my stuff instead, jumping on it, seating on it while fiddling with the stupid zipper. I even folded some of my clothes so little that I thought I deserved an award for that amazing achievement.

Yes, it was an amazing achievement.

I can't do anything about the shoes though, so I crammed them in the carrier bags, removing them from their boxes. One bag had at least 6-10 shoes in it. I tied the carrier bags' handle with a rope that I ripped off from a bunch of other carrier bags handles. Get it?

Brandon who had his things packed watched me in amusement. Evelyn who gave up earlier needed to go and was already on her way to some concert while I was packing.

"Are you done?" he asked, getting up from the bed, tucking the room keys in his pocket to hand it over at the reception desk later. I took a step back and looked towards my luggages.

It was the most revolting luggage I've ever seen with those lumps and what-not. It looked like a square, white-and-red-colored camel. My bag literally had camel humps; but instead of storing water, it stored numerous of clothes.

"Done," I muttered, and bid a silent farewell to New York.