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Chapter 7- This Conversation Is Getting Too Sentimental

Chapter 7- This Conversation Is Getting Too Sentimental

The next morning, everything I stayed up planning for today flies straight out of the window. Last night I stayed up until like, 11:30 executing the perfect plan so that I wouldn’t get caught in my plans to skip school with Mason today. It’s just that I never really do anything that I’m not supposed to, from missing curfew to breaking laws to skipping school. I can’t help it, I’m just a good girl, I guess. Not even by trying or anything, just by nature. Anyway, I had a really great plan so that my parents wouldn’t suspicious and find out. It’s not like I’m scared of them or anything, my mother’s just a little strict. Not like, tiger mom strict, but strict. My dad is pretty laid back though, unless it comes to me dating or any aspect of his ‘little girl’, that’s me, obviously, growing up.

The plan was for me to wake up this morning and get ready for school as normal. Take a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast; all that good stuff. Then, I’d go back upstairs and do my makeup and get my hair and stuff situated. I’d grab my backpack and a jacket, then leave, going downstairs out of the front door to my car. From there, I was going to go straight to Mason’s old Indianapolis house— he told me via text last night that he was just gonna spend the night there since his family owns the house. I was going to park my car in the garage at his family’s old house, then we were going to get in his car— apparently he talked his bodyguards into letting him drive, but they’re going to be a few car lengths away from us, you know, just in case.

After we made our way up to Elkhart or on the way or something, I was going to use my phone and call my high school, pose as my mom and tell the attendance lady that I have a twenty-four hour sickness or something like that. An amazing plan, right? Perfect. Totally full proof. That was until this morning, because I totally forgot that today was Tuesday.

And every single Tuesday, Holland comes and gets me from my house and we carpool to school together. Her little brother, Preston, has to go to in to school early on Tuesdays— he’s kind of a trouble maker, so in exchange for letting him stay in school after his last little prank, his school makes him come early and help teachers get ready for the day. It’d be cute if he was a little kid or something, but he’s not, really. He’s in the seventh grade, making him thirteen and he’s very…spoiled. Unlike Holland, he lives with their mom and he usually gets anything and everything he wants, which is a little ridiculous, I think. I mean, that kid has stuff now at thirteen that I didn’t have until I was like, sixteen.  

That’s not important though, what’s important is that she takes Preston to school then comes and gets me since the middle school he attends is only a few minutes from my house. I cannot believe I completely forgot about that one major detail. I guess I could always just tell Holland the truth on why I’m not coming to school today, but then she’d probably have a heart attack, or even worse, follow me to Mason’s old house and kidnap him, then keep him under her bed, making him her pet for life. I wish I could truthfully say that I’m kidding, but I’m seriously not even.

Lying on my bed face-up, I stare up at my ceiling, which is covered in random paint streaks. The summer after Holland and I became friends almost four years ago, we decided that we were going to paint my bedroom walls and things got crazy and paint ended up on the ceiling. It was pretty funny, looking back on it. Clark wasn’t our friend yet, she didn’t start being our friend until the following school year, which explains why she wasn’t there.

I run my fingers through my tangled blonde tresses and pick my iPhone up off of my bedside table thing. It’s only 7:45, and Holland doesn’t usually come until 8:30 because she’s really last minute and drives leisurely, so we’re usually both late to our first block classes. I go through a small internal debate before shaking it off and dialing Holland’s number, putting the phone to my ear.