I slept until 11:30 the next day, feeling zero guilt over losing my whole morning to extra rest and non-complicated dreams. I couldn’t even convince myself to get dressed, opting to stay in my pajamas as I padded around the house looking for something to calm my noisy stomach. Popping two frozen chocolate chip waffles into our toaster, I leaned against the counter and thought about the night before.
I hadn’t gotten home from decorating the gym until well after one o’clock. And while there, I’d been doing some serious manual labor, so it wasn’t surprising that I was still exhausted this morning. Between lifting props, hanging lights and streamers, assembling tables and carrying supplies in from Bree’s mom’s van, my body had gotten a serious workout. In fact, I felt a little like I’d been hit by a truck.
And that wasn’t even the painful part. After Cade and I had our little talk out in the hallway, things hadn’t been the same between us. By the time I’d made my way back into the gym, he’d wandered over to a girl I didn’t recognize, and had immediately started chatting her up.
I was still feeling so guilty over the fact that I couldn’t tell him about my plans before the dance that I didn’t bother asking him to help me finish setting up the floor. So, I did it myself, taking two hours to do what should’ve only taken one. The few times I’d managed to steal glances at Cade, showed that he was enjoying himself with the cute brunette that wasn’t me. I don’t know why it bothered me, but it had.
When my waffles popped up, I threw them onto a plate and drenched them in a sea of syrup. It was exactly what I needed. Sugar always made me feel better. And according to my mom, nearly all of life’s ailments could be cured with a little chocolate. So, I figured I was killing two birds with one stone.
Or soothing my sores with sweets.
As I sat down in front of our big screen TV and burrowed myself into a comfy spot on our couch, I entertained the idea of staying there all day. Until it was time to get ready for the dance, of course.
And why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like McCartney and Phin were coming over to get ready with me. They were both still giving me the cold shoulder over the whole limo thing, although I was pretty sure that Phin didn’t even know why he was supposed to be mad at me. No doubt McCartney had informed him of the ban and he’d just gone along with it.
I laughed garishly as a cartoon character fought with sea creature on the screen in front of me. I had no idea what I was watching, but it was the perfect kind of brainless fluff I needed right then. Something that would keep my mind occupied, but not make it work too hard. I was pretty sure that it was going to hit me soon, that I was about to go to my first high school dance with someone I really liked—and who just happened to be a mega star. And when it did, I’d no doubt experience my second panic attack that month.
Yes. I’d say a distraction was definitely needed.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin and officially set my claim to the living room area. Flipping through the channels, I landed on one of my favorite movies, Stick It, and let myself get lost in the world of competitive gymnastics.
Why hadn’t Mom ever put me in gymnastics? Then I’d be super-muscular and able to do flips while wearing a formal dress inside a mall. And even though the girls were always busy with training, they were the most hardcore athletes in the world and they ended up with guys in the end. Even the bitchy one.
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Ki$$ & $ellTeen Fiction
Arielle Sawyer is freaking out because she’s the last person in her class to be kissed. Frustrated by her kissably-challenged lifestyle, Arielle allows herself to be talked into selling her first kiss to the highest bidder—on eBay. The media soon ca...