That Stupid Little L-Word:

Chapter Nineteen:

I grumble some unladylike words as I stumble out of bed, knock my beeping alarm-clock off the bedside table, and rush toward my closet. I've never been obsessed with clothes, and how they appear on my slight frame. But I want to look good today, for Blue-Eyes. He needs to know that these ant-bites on my chest are actually boobs. 

Which is why I set my alarm clock a good hour and a half earlier the night before. I was obviously in some sort of daze last night --probably the result of having to worry about my mother, and the fact that I swear Blue-Eyes kissed my freaking cheek yesterday and I did absolutely nothing about it-- because otherwise I would have known better. 

I am not a morning person. 

Seven o'clock is already too early for me to function properly. How in the world did I manage to convince myself that five freaking thirty would be any better? 

"Ugh," I groan as I rummage through my closet drawers in search of something mildly appealing to the eye. I pull out a white sequined v-neck tank-top and a black pencil skirt; an out fit my grandma --yes, my grandma has a pretty good taste for fashion-- bought me last year. The shirt has the word "Sassy" ironed onto the front in fancy black lettering. It has thick straps, and the skirt is long enough so I won't get dress coded.

I pull it on over my head and shimmy into the skirt. I tuck the shirt into the skirt and then wrap a giant black belt around my waist. I walk over to my vanity and, before I sit down, stare at my reflection in the mirror. 

I look so fake. 

My lips press together into a firm line, and I fold my arms across my chest. The outfit is cute, really cute, but it doesn't look like anything that I would normally wear. I feel like such a poser. 

And I am not a poser. 

My eyes narrow, and I slide onto the seat in front of the vanity. I turn my curling iron on and do my usual make-up routine; a little mascara, eyeliner, and foundation to make sure that my face is all one color. This time, I add a hint of dark pink lip gloss on my lips. I curl my hair, mess it up entirely, and then decide to pull it into one of those doughnut shaped buns to hide my mistake. I angle it off to the side and then pull a few strands out so it looks somewhat messy.

I add a large white flower pin in. 

"I'm leaving!" I shout to my mom, after I brush my teeth --and reapply my lip gloss, because I was stupid enough to put it on first. I race toward the front door. She appears within seconds, her eyebrows arching at my choice of outfit. 

She folds her arms across her chest, "Cute outfit."

I smile cheekily and grab my keys, "I know right?" 

Her eyes narrow and she points toward the kitchen area behind her, "Just remember. I have the photos out and ready." 

I roll my eyes, "Alright. Love you too. I'll text if I need to go over to Blue --I mean, Seth's house after school again." 

Confusion flits across her face. I slam the front door shut and silently curse inside my head. I seriously need to stop with the nicknames, otherwise I'd never remember his actual name and I'd slip up in front of him. The drive to school was quiet as I mulled over a way to break the unfortunate habit. 

"Hey," I call out to Miley as I walk into the courtyard. She stands a few feet away, clustered around Devon and Carl. All three of them look up at me, and each pair of eyes widen into round saucers.

I bounce over to where they stand, liking the jaw-dropping reaction. "Morning." 

Devon can't bring himself to speak. I think that, for the moment, he has completely forgotten that he is seriously irritated with me. I smile sweetly at him until his surprise fades into an accusing pout. "You look like you're feeling better." 

I shrug, "My mom has a way with medicine. I almost passed out before I could get home." 

Carl allows his eyes to rake over my body several more times before he bothers to say anything. "Wow, you look hot, Alice." 

"Yeah," Miley folds her arms across her chest and gives me a look, "Dress up for anyone special?" 

I shoot her a glare. "No. Can't a girl dress cute without having to dress for anybody? What if I just wanted to look cute today for once." 

"You look cute every day," Devon said. My eyes flickered toward him, and immediately his face turned a bright red color. I quirk a brow at his reaction. He presses his lips together into a firm line and shoves his hands into his pockets. Then he walks away again. 

The bell rings with a sharp, electrified buzz, and Miley loops her arm through Carl's. He tears his gaze away from me long enough to shoot her a confused look. "I guess we'll see you later, Alice," she smiles hesitantly at me, her eyes once again taking in my outfit.She still seems suspicious, I deduct, as I wiggle my fingers in a wave and walk toward my first period.

My eyes scan over the crowds in search of my favorite blue-eyed boy as I enter the building. 

A burst of cold air slams in to me, like normal, and the sweat that had tried to gather atop my skin while standing outside in Florida's forever two-hundred degree weather freezes. My pace becomes considerably slower as the classroom comes closer, and eventually the late bell blares through the hallway like a siren. 

I swallow thickly as I step inside the classroom, and my eyes scan over the filled seats inside. There are only two desks that are empty, and one of them is mine. 

Guess who isn't here today?