𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 , drew starkey

seventeen

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
—𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀

—𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲

Arabella pounded on the door with a force that sent vibrations through the hallway. Her knuckles stung, but her frustration was too intense to notice the pain.

Arabella stood outside the door, her frustration growing with each passing second. She could hear shuffling inside the apartment, indicating someone was inside. Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of why she was so upset.

Arabella huffed when the door didn't open, her arm raised for another set of knocks, but it was cut off. The door flung open and before she could utter a word, she was yanked into the apartment by her arm.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to wake up everyone who lives in this damn complex?" Drew hissed at Arabella, earning nothing more than a measly eye roll from her.

Yes, Henry had smoked weed before, but this time felt different. Drew, her ex, had given it to him and his friends, who were all underage. Not only could Henry get into serious trouble, but so could Drew.

But she wasn't doing this for Drew, she was doing this for Henry.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Arabella retorted, looking around the apartment to see if anyone else was present. Finding no one, she turned her attention back to Drew.

Confusion clouded Drew's expression, his eyebrows knitting together. "What?"

Arabella couldn't help but let out a laugh, though it was more of a scoff, as she looked up at Drew. His face, twisted in of confusion and frustration. "Don't act like you don't know,"

"No, I don't, Arabella," Drew replied, his tone filled with exasperation. He let out a sigh, his frustration evident. "So if you could tell me what you're doing here, that would help,"

"You gave my 19 year old brother and his friends drugs, Drew."

Drew's mouth opened as if he were about to argue, but he quickly closed it, opting for silence instead. A hint of red crept onto his cheeks as he realized he didn't have much of an excuse for this situation.

He glanced around the room, finding only Arabella's intense gaze fixed on him. "First of all, it was weed—"

Arabella's voice boomed, cutting off Drew. "So?" she exclaimed, her tone sharp. "They're 19,"

"Why do you care so much?" he retorted, his words were defensive. "They're teenagers; that's what they do. Henry does weed all the time, so why does it matter now?"

Arabella's face hardened, her eyes narrowing. "Because he's not just some random teenager, Drew. He's my brother, and you gave it to him. You could get him and yourself into serious trouble,"

"You're such a baby," Drew groaned, rolling his eyes dismissively. "He asked me for some, so I gave him some. It's not a big deal. You act like I gave the kid lines of cocaine or something. Which his friend asked for but I didn't give him any since I don't carry that shit."

"But if you did have any on you, you would."

Drew sucked in a breath of anger, "No—what? Are you dumb?"