Gotta Be You (Justin Bieber Love Story)

Chapter 4

In any other case, I love Saturdays. I get to sleep in, and be lazy for the entire morning until dad got home and demanded that I get down to my chores and my homework.

But not today.

I hauled myself out of bed at nine, which was good for me seeing as I had fallen asleep after two in the morning. After a quick bowl of cereal, dad surprised me by coming down the stairs. Normally he was at the official Greyson studio (we have a small one downstairs instead of a basement.)

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We have to get the house ready,” he replied, then handed me a list. Chores. Ugh. Scanning the list, I realized all I had to do was clean my room. I looked up to ask my dad why, and he cut me off before I had even started.

“You have to cook.” Ah, of course. I glanced toward the kitchen counter, and sure enough, there was a list there. I picked it up and scrolled down it. At the mention of some of the ingredients on it, my eyes popped open.

“Dad, I can’t cook these things,” I said pleadingly. “And I don’t even like some of these things like. . . .” I scanned the list, “Brussel sprouts. Who likes Brussel sprouts?” he looked at me with an even glare.

“It’s not what you like, Anna,” he replied.

“Well, Ari doesn’t like them either. And neither do you. so why am I cooking it?”

“Well. . . ” and then it came to me. This evening. I shook my head.

“Dad, let me cook what I wanna cook, okay?” I crushed his list into a paper ball. He shrugged, knowing that whatever I decided would be just as good- or possibly better- than whatever he had wanted me to make.

Since my room is never really dirty, I tossed my dirty clothes into the laundry basket,  then I made my bed, and put on my bedspread (which I’m not really using now since it’s early June) and swept. Then I had to order the books on my shelves- only because dad told me to. Then I took a bath, and headed to Ari’s room to see if she wanted to come shopping with me. she hadn’t finished her chores yet either, but we snuck out together and headed to the grocery store.

Ari, as always, insisted on pushing the cart. That left me free to mull over what to put in it. I was trying to decide what past to get when I heard a voice call out my name. Turning, I saw my boyfriend, Kameron, approaching me, a smile on his face and his black hair tousled and windswept. I looked at my feet, trying to hold back to blush that was threatening to rise. I blush fairly easily, in case you haven’t noticed.

“Hey,” he said, when he got to me. I looked back up at him, and his pearly blue eyes were mesmerizing.

“Hi,” I managed.

“Hello to you too, Kameron,” said Ari, folding her hands across her chest. He looked at her and smiled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Arielle, I didn’t see you there,” he said, imitating (and completely nailing) an English accent. Ari giggled. She loves it when he puts on his fake English accent.