Beckinsile's Point of View
I wake up to the smells of pancakes and bacon. I push my covers back blissfully and slip on a pair of slippers as I walk downstairs. My mom and dad are filling up plates as Gabe and I take our seats with sleepy expressions. I sip my orange juice as my mom sets a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon in front of me. I inhale the aroma of my breakfast and eat slowly, savoring every bite. I look at the time and see 11 A.M. written on the clock. I finish my breakfast and drop my dishes in the sink.
"Where are you going, Beckinsile?" My dad says as he sips his coffee and skims his newspaper.
"I'm working on homework with a friend." I say in a small voice.
"Which friend?" He looks at me skeptically over his glasses.
"Oliver," I mutter as I slowly inch up the stairs.
"Do we know him?"
"Yes; he's on Gabe's soccer team." I continue going up the stairs at a slow pace.
"Very well, what time will you be back?" My dad goes back to reading his newspaper.
"I'll call, can I borrow the car?" I take a deep breath and wait for his answer.
"Here," He tosses me his SUV keys. I catch them and smirk at Gabe who's cleaning dishes.
I race up to my room and shut the door. I go into my bathroom and wash my face. I put on some eyeliner and mascara before even attempting to pick out an outfit. I groan as I search my closet for something remotely decent to wear. Most of my clothes are in the wash which leaves me with few options. I decide on my Warped Tour shirt and a pair of blue jeans.
I lace up my converse and grab the car keys. I hike my bag up on my shoulder and race down the stairs. I kiss my parents on the cheek and walk out to the garage. My dad's silver SUV is parked next to my mom's small hybrid. I unlock it and hop into the driver's seat. Oliver has already texted me his address and now I'm typing it on my GPS. It's about half a mile from my house. It would hopefully be a five minute drive, provided I don't get lost. I check the clock. It says I have ten minutes until noon. I open up the garage and drive out. It closes behind me and I begin to drive towards his house.
I pull into his driveway a few minutes later and remove the key from the ignition. I can feel my stomach in my throat. My nerves are running high and I don't know why this is worrying me. I can act normal around him any other time, why not now? I take a deep breath and grab my bag. I'm careful to lock the car as I step up onto his porch.
My heart is racing as I knock on the door. I hear the shuffling of footsteps as Oliver opens the door. He has a smirk on his face and a beanie on his head. He's dressed in a pair of sweats with our school's logo on it and a black t-shirt. Oliver's wrists are still full of band bracelets and he's wearing a three leaf clover necklace. "Am I checking him out?" I internally panic as he chuckles at me.
"You're awfully silent," Oliver muses as he leads me up a staircase.
I don't respond which puts a smirk on his face.
"I like your shirt; which was your favorite band that you saw there?"
"I went for Mayday Parade," I say as Oliver opens the door to his room.
It's a lot neater than I would've expected. He has a huge bed filled with throw pillows. There's a desk with shelves that are cluttered with trophies and awards. He has framed tickets to baseball games and concerts on the walls and an expensive looking laptop on his desk. Oliver has a couple of beanbags in the corners of his room and a pair of French doors that lead out onto a large balcony. The balcony has a view of the park and golf course beyond.
YOU ARE READING
Some Wounds Never HealTeen Fiction
**Watty Honorable Mention/Undiscovered Gem** He lies awake in bed, thoughts of her still overpowering his brain. He wants her back lying next to him. He needs to feel her touch just one last time and maybe then he could move on. But that's not possi...