12 | in her hoodie pocket

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| 12 |

Why did the picture go to jail? Because it was framed.

CHARLOTTE STIRRED SLOWLY, clawing on her bed covers. Groaning, she threw the blankets off of herself and stumbled to her closet. Another day, another day...

It wasn't just another day, however, she realized, her eyes widening.

Last night.

Yesterday was magical.

Kissing Teddy. She'd never imagined anything so surreal. That was the reason she actually got up this morning... To see Theodore.

She also didn't want to go to school, however. The worries, the confusion, the fact that she made out with her best friend that would be there, that would be at school!

Charlie felt a little bit of regret after running out on him, but knowing her, she would have said something to screw everything up.

Loitering to her desk, she grabbed the purple hair brush and brushed through her tangled mess of knots as she thought.

What if he played it off as if nothing happened? Man, she'd be so pissed if he did. What if he hated it? What if he didn't want to be friends anymore because of it? That was highly possible. How would they be able to go from friends one second, to kissing each other the next? Oh no, the stress was creeping through her body.

With one last yank through her hair, she put down the brush and rushed to her closet to pick out clothes for the day.

Changing into fuzzy black sweatpants and a red and black gryffindor tank top, Charlotte threw on some socks and a pair of worn out boots and combed her hair into a bun. Then she slid into her black hoodie and felt prepared for the day. Kind of.

Actually, not at all. She felt as if she were about to throw up.

She wanted to see Theodore, but she also didn't.

Gosh, maybe he wanted to see her. But maybe he wanted to stay as far away as he could from her. Holy shoot, there was no way she was going to school. She couldn't face Theodore yet. No way in hell, muchacho.

Blinking hard, she sleepily stumbled back to her bed and face-planted on the hard mattress. Her nose was squashed, and her cheeks were squished. "Gghhhshhggah."

"Charlotte!" her father's deep voice yelled out from downstairs. "Come eat breakfast!"

"Ghhshahrghrg," she groaned [again] loudly into her pillow.

Thundering footsteps charge up the stairs and her door flew open. "Come on Charlotte, you need to eat before school."

"Canstayhomedad," she said, her voice muffled from the pillow.

"No, you're going to school. Up, up, come on," her dad chanted, grabbing her limp arms by her side, beginning to drag her off.

"What the heck?" she cried out when her body thumped on the ground, her hands flying out from under her.

"You need to hurry, you're going to to be late."

Her dad was a stocky guy, standing tall and intimidating at around six foot four. People would always comment on how Charlotte got his nose, and has almost the same smile, dimple and everything. But the similarities about ended their, her father's eyes a steel grey color, his hair a blonde tornado (with a hefty amount of grey, but he wouldn't admit it).

"Fine, I'm going, God," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and popping back up.

After eating a quick bowl of Lucky Charns, she grabbed her backpack and headed out to the car.

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