**SEQUEL**
This time, it's not the story about Kaytlyn Flores. It's the story of Blair Cohen.
The daughter of the feared bad boy and the popular athlete-or, should I say 'The Bad Boy's Girl'?
I hummed in response, being too lazy and tired to reply with actual words.
"It's six thirty, and I didn't hear your alarm go off." He told me, still standing in my door way.
"That's because it didn't. I trained myself to wake up at six thirty for school." I mumbled, but loud enough for him to hear.
"What? Really?" He questions, somewhat surprisingly.
"No." I stated while rolling off of my bed onto my feet.
"Whatever. See you at breakfast." Dylan says, closing my door behind him as he walked out.
I didn't bother replying. He was probably halfway down the stairs, anyways.
Why does school start so early? If it started at like, ten and ended at like, four, would be so much better! I'd be able to sleep in a little more, and go to sleep a little later.
Alright, kind of a lie. I'd be going to sleep at the same time, since I'm up late watching Netflix.
I walked to my bathroom and turned right, to my sliding, closet door. And I slid it open.
The night before a school day-I never pick my outfit. It really depends on how I'm feeling in the morning. But I do shower in the evening instead of in the morning. It just makes more sense-to me, at least.
I grabbed my red and white, striped crop top that I got when we went shopping for school and white jean shorts. (Below)
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I then grabbed my white converse. (Below)
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