I woke up...on the floor. I got up, and Rob was passed out on the couch and I just laughed.
Ugh we're so lazy, I thought.
I threw the blanket over him and he twitched.
"Alex!" he practically screamed. I jumped back, but realized he was still sleeping. I went on the section of couch where his head was, which was the chaise. I sat down and started playing with his hair. His black face paint (or whatever the hell football players used) was all smudged, and his face was all sweaty. His eyebrows were tight, and his lips were slightly parted.
His muscles twitched, and his mouth parted into a smile. I kept playing with his hair, and his chest twitched.
Wherever he is, that's where my heart is.
I looked at him and laughed for no reason.
We were such a cliché couple.
He was a professional football player.
I was a college dropout.
He was gorgeous and had a great heart.
I was well...average, and selfish.
He was perfect.
I watched Rob intently, and I noticed he had something on his face. I went to wipe whatever it was, and I realized it was a stubble. Ugh, not okay. Feels much?
I decided I wanted to watch a movie, so I turned on the TV. Rob was still sleeping, so I had the volume on low. I flipped through some channels until I found 'My Cousin Vinny'.
"He puts his little deer lips to the cool clear water, and BAM! A fucking bullet right through his head! Brains all on the ground! Do you really think he gives a fuck about the pants that the son of a bitch that shot him was wearing?!" I quoted Marissa Thomei at the same exact second she said it. I started to laugh uncontrollably, and Rob woke up.
"Alex?" he asked groggily.
"Yes," I replied.
"What day is it?"
"Oh, ok," he yawned. I laughed.
"Do you maybe wanna go to dinner?" I asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, sure. Where?"
"Um...Uno, maybe?" I suggested.
"Yeah. That'll be nice. When?" Rob asked. I shrugged.
"How about now?"
Rob got up sleepily, and went into the bedroom. He threw on a 'Property of the New England Patriots' shirt, a pair of jeans, and Reeboks.
I put on a black Under Armour t-shirt with a pink Superman symbol. I threw on a grey Hollister sweatshirt, and my grey vans.
"You ready to go babe?" Rob asked. I nodded, and we went out to the car.
Rob was driving as usual. We didn't usually really talk much in the car. About five minutes into the drive, Rob spoke.
"Why do you love me?"
"My turn. Why do you love me?" he asked.
"Because you have a good heart, a loving and caring personality, you effect everyone around you positively, and you know how to treat girl right. You're genuinely caring, and you try to never let anyone bring you down. You're the exact opposite of the Grinch: Your heart is ten sizes too big. You're also easy on the eyes," I chuckled. Zack smiled and leaned in for a kiss. I loved him so much. I loved him. He was my other half. My missing puzzle piece.
*end of flashback*
It's funny how things change, I thought.
"Because. I just do. You're perfect. You always know what to say, and you always know when I need a hug. You say the most when you just look at me and smile, and that means the world to me. You're just...perfect. Not to mention the fact that you're cute," I said sincerely. "My turn. Why do you love me?"
"Because. I just do," he said, smiling. "You're so...you. Your smile makes me feel like I've done something right in my life. You know how to make me laugh when no one can. Not to mention you like my friends. And you're beautiful. Inside and out. You think you're selfish, but you're the kindest and greatest girl I've ever met."
"No one's ever treated me like you do," I murmured. He took my hand.
"Well they should've," he replied. I smiled, grateful for Rob. We pulled into the parking lot of Uno, and parked on the far end of the parking lot. We walked hand-in-hand into the restaurant.
"How many?" the hostess asked.
"Two," I replied.
"About ten minutes," she said, smiling.
Rob and I sat down, and started chatting about the upcoming 'Prank Week'.
"I'm pretty excited," I admitted. He laughed.
"Me too," he nodded. "Who are you gonna pick for you team?"
"I'm not telling!" I said, pretending to zip my lips.
"You can't even tell me? Pwease?" Rob begged. I shook my head.
"Not happening babe," I laughed. He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, you are."
I was about to punch Rob on the arm when a voice made my bones chill.
"Alex Rose Stone."
"Isaiah Douche Bag Thornhill."