Noah's POV
"Blake, ugh. Really?" I huff when I see the mess Blake made. I walk over to her and bend down to pick up the pieces of the plate she broke because if she gets cut, she will bleed; if I get cut, I'll heal before I can even stand up to get a bandage. "Just go upstairs. Someone get me a broom." I instruct as I take the pieces of glass out of her hands. "Honesty, you're going to hurt yourself," I grumble as she walks away and up the stairs. "I mean seriously. She can't do anything right," I say to myself as Tyler hands me a broom.
"Be nice. She didn't mean to," Dylan says, and I dump the pieces of the plate I have in my hand in the garbage when Tyler starts sweeping up the rest of it.
"Yeah, she is having a hard time detoxing, and it's one plate you don't even care about. Chill
