8.

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I hardly remembered yesterday was actualy Sunday, and that tomorrow, Tuesday, the finals where starting. I had literature on Tuesday, the most simple one so I just had to brush up my notes and read the passage a couple of times again. 

I was actually prepared for all my finals because I never failed a test on any subject so I kinda knew what to do. I just had to put more effort in the theoretical parts. I got up lazily, touching the soft sheets while I stretched. It took all my will to finally get up. And it hit me.

The dialy routine I was used to do in my house was over for now and realizing that made me remember yesterday's fight with Nash. The whole screaming and yelling into our faces, me shuting the door on his nose, the fact that he brought up the question he'd asked me at Matt's place, everything just made its way to my mind. 

I tryed to make those things go away by taking a shower. My bathroom still had no towels yet because I forgot them downstairs so I just made my way to the main bathroom near my room. 

I prepare the shower water to come out at a reasonable temperature, it takes me some time because I am not used like I am to my own bathroom back at home. I strip my clothes off and hop into the shower. The warm water quickly loosens my tense muscles. I take my time to wash my body and hair and make sure to shave my legs. 

I wrap my wet body and my hair on a towel and peek through the half-opened door to see if someone was out there. Clear. I hop/run my way to my bedroom and lock myself in. As I walked past my alarm I notice I'm already late and panick. I literally hate being late to anywhere, It's just no me. I'm always puctual. What happened? I must have lost a lot of time at the shower.

I quickly blowdry my hair until its just a little bit damp and put on the first thing in sight at my dresser. It was a white muscle tee, some hail shorts and my white converse. I grab my bag and throw my phone and stuff inside as I run down the stairs to get my car. 

I enter the key and give it a spin and hear the engine noise sound and then stop. I repeat this three times and the last time I hit a slap to the steering wheel. "Dammit" I say under my breath. I leave the car, slamming the door and entered the house again. I run upstairs Nash's room. I have no other option.

I look over my watch and I hate myself because I know I'll miss first period. I slowly try to open the door without making much noise and entered the dark room. He sleeps with his blinds completely closed, and I can not see anything. The light coming through the door allows me to approach the bed carefully. I feel so stupid for doing this. Leaving aside all my pride and thoughts, I poke his cheek waiting for him to wake up and of course, he dosen't. 

I laugh a bit because he is a heavy sleeper and poke him again this time whispering his name. Nothing again. I giggle a bit and come closer to him to whisper in his ear as I poke him yet again. He opened his eyes shocked and completely lost and whines as the light hits his sight. I was giggling again on how cute he was and he just stared at me. 

"What the fuck do you want?" He says, is morning voice raspier than ever, he buries his face on a pillow and I hear him say "Get out!" 

I knew this cute Nash woudn't last long. "No, I'm sorry its so early but I need you to drive me to school, I'm really late" I ask as politely as I can. He checks his watch and looks at me again, his face examining mine. "No way" he simply says and rolls over snuggling his other pillow. 

"Oh my god Nash are you serious? Are you coming back at me because of yesterday?" He faces me for what it feels like the fifth time and squints his eyes. "Do you actually thing I care about that? It was just a stupid question Anna get over yourself" he scoffs and sits down rubbing his eyes. 

Ouch. I didn't saw that coming. I feel like a complete idiot now, he made me look as If I really cared that he asked twice about that, which I did, I'm not gonna lie. Its not that I cared cared about it, it just made me think about the why of his words. 

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