Breathe

chapter five: the system

My alarm screamed at six thirty as it always does and I forced myself out of my comfortable sheets. Dressing myself in skinny jeans and a basic white t shirt, brown boots that stopped below my knee, and Allison's leather jacket. Looking in the mirror, I could see that my outfit wasn't fully complete.

"Brooke! Let's get a move on, come on." Stiles said showing up in my door way.

"Oh! Stiles!" I yelled and he poked his head back in the room.

"Hm?"

"What is this missing?" I asked pointing to my outfit.

"Uh, Brooke I don't know. I'm not a girl. Call Lydia." Stiles said.

"Stiles! Please," I pouted.

"Ugh..." He grunted, entering my room and looking in my closet. "Here, this."

Stiles handed me a baby blue scarf.

"Ugh, I love you." I smiled kissing his cheek.

"If you love me, you won't make me late. Move your scrawny ass."

"I'm moving, I'm moving." I smiled, grabbing two diamond studs from my dresser and a couple bracelets on my way out the door.

"Brooke!" Stiles yelled.

"Yes?" I turned around to face him in the hall holding my book bag with a smug look on his face.

Securing my earring I grabbed it from him sheepishly and jogged down the stairs. Stiles ran into the kitchen and I to the closet by our front door. Grabbing my maroon cheer bag and his lacrosse bag, I opened mine to see if I had what I needed.

"I want nutella on my waffle Stiles!" I yelled.

"Too bad, we're out. How's peanut butter?" He yelled back, before I could speak he yelled again. "Crap. You hate peanut butter. How about butte- oh wait! Found nutella, Dad keeps putting it in the fridge."

"He probably thinks it's frosting!" I laughed, opening my bag I saw, pom poms, cheer shoes, ankle brace, wrist tape, bow, uniform, practice clothes, sports bra, spandex, and extra hair ties with a brush, hairspray, and bobby pins. I'm good.

Grabbing Stiles' lacrosse bag I unzipped it, "Roll call!" I yelled to him.

"Gloves!" He yelled.

"Check! I responded.

"Cleats!"

"Check!"

"Shorts!"

"Check!"

"Shirt!"

"Check!"

"Socks!"

"Check!"

"Helmet!"

"Check!"

"Stick." He said rounding the corner, with two toaster waffles in his hand.

"Check." I said tossing it to him, which he caught with his free hand.

Zipping his bag, I slung mine over my shoulder and grabbed my waffle from his hand as he stuck his stick in the opening on his back pack. Stiles grabbed his bag and tucked his waffle between his teeth shoving his hand in his pocket.

"Keys, phone, Brooke, bags, food, good. Go!" Stiles said talking to himself.

The two of us walked out the door as we did everyday, like clockwork, out the door by 7:45, Scott's house by 7:50, school by 8:05. I climbed in the front after handing my bag to Stiles, that he throws in the hatch back on his way around the Jeep. Jumping in the car he hit the gas and got us to Scott's on time, I threw myself into the back and Scott get's in, tossing me his bag. Which I throw into the back with the rest and we head to school.