The sharp ring of my alarm clock pulled me from my deep sleep suddenly at five the next morning. I let out a groan, my lips never parting, and sat up blearily. Zebra-print duvet fell away, and I leaned down and turned my fan off, placing my feet on the ground unwillingly and standing.
Coffee. That's the only thing that was on my mind as I walked across the room and flicked on my closet light. I opened my door quietly and made my way across the landing.
The house was chilly and dark. I kicked on the thermostat, and flicked on the kitchen light. My mom was still asleep, since she didn't have work until eleven. I popped a little single-serve cup into the Keurig, and brewed my favourite, white-chocolate mocha. I carried it back to my room, closing my mum's door softly on the way because I like to play music when I get ready.
Setting my cup down on my bookshelf, I pulled my pyjamas off and walked into my bathroom. I have a tiny bathroom connected to my bedroom with a shower/bath combo, a toilet, and a sink. Once I turned the shower on to heat up, I unscrewed the top of my favourite mud mask, and applied a quick layer before I jumped under the stream and began to wash.
A twinge of excitement twisted in my stomach as I let my mind wander to the day ahead of me. Right about now, Coach was filling the field painter with white paint to stripe the field. I was so ready to win this game.
I stepped out of the shower, towelled off, and, completely naked, I blow dried my hair and removed my mask.
I pulled on a pair of white lace panties and a blue bra, my clothes that I laid out yesterday, and my white converse. My poofy, freshly-washed hair was pulled into a bun, which I tugged and pinned until it reached the satisfactory level of messiness.
It was 6:24 now, so I sat at my makeup table. On it sat my lighted makeup case, which closed up to look like a small, plastic suitcase. I used to use it for dance competitions, but I haven't done one of them in a year. I applied foundation, concealer, bronzer, blush, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, and filled in my eyebrows.
What can I say, I like to look good?
By the time I finished, it was 6:48, so I grabbed my phone, my wallet, and my school bag, and hurried down the stairs. Of course Jeremy was here right at 6:50, the punctual bugger.
I closed and locked the door behind me. It was surprisingly brisk outside, and in the pale light, I walked down the stone path to his car to escape the nippy air. His little Mini convertible barely contained all of us. Alex, Jeremy, Gordon, Sam, and I were a big load. Four muscular football players, plus a me equals a cramped car.
"Chandler!" Alex opened the back door and stepped out so I could climb into the middle seat. Sam smiled blearily over at me from the other seat, wearing sweats, a henley, Toms, and a beanie. Cute little hipster boy. I scooted in beside him, and sat my bag at my feet.
"Good morning!" I said brightly, greeting my friends with a smile. Jeremy waved from the driver's seat, Gordon beside him in the passenger seat. It was a little chilly in the backseat.
"Hey, doll," Jeremy replied as he pulled away from the curb and began the short ride to the McDonalds. I shivered, my bare legs feeling the chill. Alex's jacket was tucked in between the two of us, so I grabbed it and spread it over my legs.
"Everybody, same orders?"
Everyone said yes, of course. We got the same orders every time. I get four sausage McGriddles, two hash browns and a Coke.
The drive-thru was deserted as we pulled in and ordered. Jeremy new the orders like the back of his hand, "I need ten breakfast burritos, four sausage McGriddles, ten hash browns, two hot cake plates, two Cokes, a Dr. Pepper, and two sprites."
