Olivia's P.O.V
The twins' room was always quite clean, so there wasn't much to do. I made the beds and collected the laundry and I was done. I would assume it was so pristine because all they ever did was shop with their rich friends. I didn't mind as long as it meant less work.
I decided to go back to Jordan's later in the day, at least when he wasn't in there. I was still kind of uncomfortable with the whole situation, but I would get over it.
That was the last thing I had to do until lunch at noon. It was ten o'clock. I had plenty of time to talk to Mary and relax in my room.
I decided to do the latter first. I reached my room and shut the door, making my way to my bed. I had just flopped down on my bed when a small knock on my door brought me back to my feet. Groaning, I opened the door, expecting to see Mary. Who it really was surprised me.
I recognized the tall, muscular figure standing in front of me. His hand moved to nervously rub the back of his neck and he didn't look me in the eye.
"So... um..." he started. " I wanted to apologize for earlier. For snapping at you and... um... the other thing."
I felt my cheeks blush along with his. He looked cute- I mean cuter- when he was nervous.
After I didn't reply, he continued,"You also dropped this, so I thought I would return it."
He handed me the rag. My hand brushed his and I felt flutters in my heart.
He then started to turn around but stopped when I finally spoke: "You remembered where my room was?" I asked, feeling like I was floating.
I have had the same bedroom since we were little kids still playing together, actually since I was born. I smiled at the thought of him remembering the small detail.
I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up with an emotional wall. He walked out swiftly.
Jordan's P.O.V
Of course I remembered where her room was. How could I forget? We were so close- until she just shut me out for no reason. I was bitter ever since.
I walked out of the room, not wanting to be near her any more. I was repulsed that she just gave up on me.
Whatever. I thought. I have real friends now.
I left the castle, despite the numerous times my mom called my name, and went in search of a good time. I called my friend Josh. He wasn't a good example, but he was wild, which was what got me into my 'party addiction' and rebellious life style.
He was the son of some duke, but got sick of the tight lifestyle. He turned to alcohol. We met one night at a club as I tried to drown out the high expectations of my parents with shots. A tall- yet shorter than me- stranger sat down beside me. He had black hair and light blue eyes. His style was a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, heavily contrasting to my pressed suit.
He ordered a round of shots for both of us. We got wasted that night and bonded over hangovers the next morning in the same club. We went to his apartment and talked about ourselves.
We had now been close friends since we were 16, so about two years.
He answered on the first ring.
"Heeeyyy bro, wassup," I could tell he was already pretty wasted.
"Wanna go get trashed?" I asked him.
He laughed, "Always duuuuude!"
He never gave up an opportunity to hit a club, especially when he was already drunk.
I hung up and headed to his place, ready for the night to become a blur.