365 Days

354

354

It’s Wednesday and like the past two mornings, I wake up to an eighteen year old boy on my bed. Although today he has decided to lie down next to me and make me extremely uncomfortable.

“Alex, get lost,” I have to grumble, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to push him off the bed.

I am trying really hard at being friends with him but it’s hard when he does things like this. Also, it’s hard when it’s morning because, well, mornings. They suck and I’m just not a morning person.

“No, I’m comfy.”

Ugh, how do I even get into these situations? Although I can blame this one on Olive, who – considering Alex does not currently have access to his car – offered to drive him to school every morning.

“Seriously Alex. I’m not joking. Leave me alone.” My voice is still thick with sleep as I roll over, facing away from him.

“No.” The way he says it makes him sound like a four year old, so much so that I have to turn to see if his expression matches his voice. It does. I can’t help but laugh.

He stares at me with a small smile and something hidden below the surface.

“What?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing, it’s just nice to hear your laugh.”

I roll my eyes, not bothering to come up with a smart response. Instead I grumble, close my eyes but don’t drift off to sleep. I wish. I just lay there beside Alex, listening to his breathing which is oddly calming. Brief moments like these make me believe we can become good friends, but right now I feel an incredible urge to push him onto the floor. I’m way too lazy to do that though.

“Hey, feel my shirt,” Alex suddenly says after a minute of peace and quiet. I swear I almost fell back asleep. “That’s boyfriend material.”

I don’t move anything except my eyes, which roll of their own accord. “Really? It looks a little too clingy and hard to maintain.”

“Liking the way it clings to my chest, Dakota? Wanting to maybe even tear it off my smoking hot body? I have abs, you know.”

“And I have a gag reflex.”

“Hmm. Maybe us shacking up isn’t the best idea then…”

Ew. It’s too early for this. I groan into my pillow before I unwillingly crawl out of bed. I can’t stand being so close to him any more. “I hate him I hate him I hate him,” I mumble, gathering my clothes to take to the bathroom.

“Love you too,” he calls as I exit the room, padding across the hall to shower. Once I am finished, I slide on my jeans that make my butt look good and my fluffy red-and-white-polka-dot socks. I throw on a light grey thermal long-sleeve underneath a zip up hoodie and vest. When I return to my room Alex is gone, and I pull on my black beanie and slide my boots on, before venturing downstairs.

Olive is here; I can hear her before I see her. She is belting out the words to Sweet Home Alabama, putting on a southern accent to go with it. For me, that song represents happiness, fun and summer, not early morning, school and cold.

What’s even worse is that Alex and my parents are having a perfectly flowing conversation as if my catastrophe of a best friend is not being a lunatic.

Why is everyone so weird in the mornings?

I haven’t had time to get over the fact that my parents adore Alex or that Olive is now ‘shipping’ us. It doesn’t register in my brain and I don’t want it to. All I want to do is get out of here and get to school.