Geek Transformation.

Chapter 29.

"Grace" a voice whispers.

"What?" I question groaning.

"How was your date?" it questions.

I rub my eyes and sit up from my bed.

"Claire we have school tomorrow and it's the middle of the night" I state.

"We have four more hours of sleep it's no big deal. Can you just tell me?" she insists.

"No!" I snap.

"Go back to sleep" I order.

"Can you at least tell me where he took you?" she questions.

I lay back down with a sigh of defeat.

"To the expensive restaurant we usually go on special occasions" I answer.

She gasps.

"That's a lot of money" Claire states.

"Depends on what you buy" I reply.

"Not even like that" she argues.

"Yeah that's true" I agree.

"How did he get you into that place and managed to buy you food?" Claire questions.

"Claire he has a job, which helps him earn money. He has enough money to take his girlfriend out" I explain.

She lets out a huff.

"I still can't believe you guys are dating" she thinks out loud.

"Claire would you just go to sleep!?" I bark.

"Ok ok don't cut my head off. Goodnight jeez" she says getting back into her covers.

"Goodnight".

~*~

"Morning mom, dad" I smile.

"Morning. Are you going to eat anything hun?" she questions.

I check the clock.

"Umm yeah I think I have time" I state.

"Eat breakfast I'll drive us to school don't worry about walking!" I hear Claire shout from upstairs.

"Fine" I sigh grabbing a plate of toast, scrambled eggs, 2 large raisen and oatmeal cookies, with a glass of milk.

"She better not make us get late. I bet you she's still putting makeup on in the bathroom or ironing her hair" I roll my eyes.

"Well maybe you should start spending more time on your appearance too" my mother suggests.

I give her a look.

"What's that suppose to mean?" I ask.

She shrugs her shoulders, "Nothing, it just means that you should try and spend more time on your appearance" she repeats.

"Are you trying to call me ugly?" I ask.

"Oh God no, you're my gorgeous little baby, why on earth would you think that Grace?" she questions.

"Because you're implying it" I retort.

"Was not" she argues.

"Whatever" I mumble.

"It's school, not a fashion show" I retort after a few seconds on silence.

I hear her sigh.

"Still you should look more presentable you know for Slade and for yourself, but more for yourself. How about you try a different look, pass a comb or brush through that hair more often, something! Anything!" she replies.