Waking Up

Chapter 1

<Katherine's POV>

My eyes flutter open at the sound of Green Day going off much too early. I drowsily hit snooze and look at the clock. It's only 4 A.M. I do not want to get up at all today, mostly because it's my first day at university and I do not know what to expect.

Ugh. I don't want to have to make new friends and find my way around this new and foreign place. I am going to be going to still be living in Australia, but all I've ever known was Adelaide. I know that I am lucky to have even gotten a scholarship and should make the best out of this opportunity, but I am just not a morning person. I still don't have to get up for another few hours...

"Woody?" A voice whispered. I can just barely make out what the voice was saying in my groggy state, but I instantly know who it is. Only my best friends call me Woody and his thick Australian accent was unrecognizable.

I hear him coming into my room, walking towards me. My eyes refuse to open and I refused to leave the warmth and comfort of my bed.

"Woody!" The voice repeats, yelling this time, startling me. It was Michael, or Red Dog, as I like to call him, one of my four best friends that I have known since the first grade.

Michael Clifford is an interesting person. He's weird and crazy, but hilarious, and I love him. He is extremely pale with blue eyes and pink, full lips. The first thing anyone notices when they see Michael is his hair. He constantly dyes it, from bubblegum pink to platinum blond to bright blue. Right now it's a mixture of blue and black. Some girls might consider him to be hot, which I guess he is, but we have known each other for so long that I can't think of him in that way. We are practically related.

I groan as I roll over and bury my face in my pillow, ignoring him.

"KATHERINE HAZEL WOODS WAKE UP YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!" Michael yells as he leaps onto my bed, landing right on top of me.

"OWW MIKEY YOU DICK THAT HURT MY BOOB!!" I yell back at him as I smack his arm.

He smirks at me and yawns, much louder than necessary, while lying down beside me,propping himself up on his elbow and adjusting himself in a more comfortable position.

He obviously had just woken up. I could tell by his messy hair and sleepy eyes.

" You should start getting ready or we're gonna be late, and i know how much you hate being late," he said to me, his raspy morning voice evident.

I sigh and look at the clock. It is now seven o'clock. He is right. Goddammit. I hate when he is right.

I melodramatically lift myself up and head towards my bathroom to take a quick shower. I hassle on my Nirvana t-shirt and struggle to put on ripped skinny jeans, which are too damn tight, but make my butt look a thousand times better than it actually does.

Hazel eyes stare back at me as I put some mascara on my thick lashes. I then comb through my tangled nest of hair and attempt to curl it. I only end up burning my hand with the stupid iron.

I give up and put my knotted hair in a messy bun and go on a hunt for my white hightop converse.

"Looking for something Woody?" Michael asked as he dangles the shoes in front of my face.

" Why how kind of you Red Dog," I grin. I tried to snatch them from him, but he lifted his arm higher so that they were just out of my reach. I knew wouldn't let go that easily.

"Not so fast," he says, waving his finger at me. I attempt to grab them a few more times before giving up in frustration.

Why does he have to be so fucking tall?