Coastal [h.s]

twelve

SOPHOMORE YEAR//MAY

~MAGGIE~

I had always been a morning person. So at the sound of my phone's "waves" alarm it only took a few seconds for my hand to reach over to the bedside table and hit snooze, only to give me a timer until I actually had to get out of my warm bed. I brought the phone to my face and the screen illuminated my room.

There were six missed texts from Niall who had been high off his ass when I went to bed and was just letting me know he got home, one Instagram DM from Goldie that was probably a cute animal video, and at the bottom a text from my dad. The same one I wake up to every single day.

"Good morning kiddo, world is waiting for you, show 'em who's boss"

I smile gently at my phone. Since he was still home in Rhode Island on east coast time, he always beat me to waking up, and always made sure to text me first thing. Same thing every day, but it always feels just as meaningful and gives me the confidence I need to take on my day. With him by my side, I seriously felt like I could do anything.

Before my alarm even got the chance to sound a second time, I whipped my sage green comforter off and swung my legs onto the floor. I clicked on my phone one more time. The numbers 6:13 hung above my wallpaper, a picture of the ocean I had taken on a beach walk a couple of months ago. I had to be at Coastal by 7:15 to set everything up in time for the post sunrise surf rush when we open at 8 o'clock, with the 15 minute drive from my place on campus over there, I needed to be ready and out the door a little before 7:00. 45 minutes was plenty of time for an early morning pro.

Walking to the bathroom I opened Spotify and pressed play on my "main character montage" playlist. Cringy, I know, but it was truly the only thing that encapsulated the group of songs I had put together. Goldie had spent the night at Daisy's, they had been spending quite a lot of time together, which meant I could put my music on full blast. I grabbed my toothbrush, aka my microphone, and got to work. The electronic notes of "Gimme Gimme Gimme" by ABBA began to bounce between the walls of our small bathroom and my hips immediately moved to the beats. I hummed and groaned my way through the song with a mouthful of toothpaste, but right before the last chorus I knew my two minutes were up. With a dramatic spit of the white foamy now totally gross toothpaste, I gripped my toothbrush with both hands and began my strut through the hallway.

"There's not a soul out there" I shouted turning the corner and leaning my head back onto the peach colored wall. "No one to hear my prayer," my arms spread out on either side, palms against the wall as I slid downwards till I was completely crouched down. As the music continued to build I turned and slowly walked forward standing up at the rate of the song.

At the exact moment the chorus hit I barged into my room, jumped on my bed and gave the concert of my life. Whipping my knotty hair around, jumping, and shaking my hips back and forth, caressing my toothbrush like my life depended on it.