You're Too Guyish | Justin Bieber AU

#One

° Lyssa

I woke up. Monday morning. September. Sprawled on my stomach, in a perfect star, across the sheets of my bed.

I didn't turn off the alarm I just laid there.

Ugh. Today's school.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I turned over so I was on my back.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Today's also the big game against the Sharks.

BEEP. BEEP. BE--

Shit.

I sat up with a jolt and slammed my hand over the Off button of my alarm.

Oh yeah. How could I forget. THE GAME AGAINST THE FUCKING SHARKS.

I shot off the mattress, landed on my feet, grabbed my towel off the hook and headed for the bathroom.

I sighed as I ripped my PJs off and stepped in the tub. Lyssa, Lyssa, Lyssa. I tisked myself.

I turned on the shower and dipped my head in. I let the water run through my dead straight, chin-lengthed hair. And it's not cute chin-lengthed, mind you. It's ruffled, boyish, a tint darker than chestnut, with black streaks striking through random places.

I didn't feel like shampooing today so I didn't, instead I skipped straight to scrubbing myself with whatever branded shower cream my mom had gotten; my only concern was that it said 'SHOWER CREAM' on the label.

I grabbed my towel that was slung over the curtain pole and dried myself as I stepped out the tub. I scrubbed some facial wash on my face, brushed my teeth, rinsed, then made my way back to my room, still dripping a bit, and locked the door behind me.

I violently rubbed my hair dry, then ruffled it a bit, looking in the mirror. Oh yeah, I was totally rocking the wet look.

I grabbed one of my sports bras and boy shorts underwear from my top drawer and put them on.

I struggled a bit with the bra. Okay so my bust is big but that doesn't mean I'm gonna start wearing padded cups anytime soon. Those things make it even harder to breathe not to mention makes you look like you grew camel humps on the wrong side.

And I do not wanna be attracting any of that sort of attention.

I threw on a neon T-shirt that said a simple 'NO' on the front and a pair of booty shorts to match. The T-shirt was so loose and long it hung off me to a low extent, concealing the shorts making them invisible on the outside.

Okay so normally I don't do booty shorts but hey, Caitlin didn't want 'em anymore and chucked it my closet, so why not give it shot.

I stuffed my gym bag with my softball jersey and shoes, quickly slicked a comb through my still damp hair, and stampeded downstairs.

"LORD BLESS US LYSSA CALM THE CAPPUCCINO DOWN," my dad yelled as I burst into the kitchen.

"Hi Daddy!" I said and good-morning-kiss him; I'm in a good mood.

"Whoa whoa whoa, and a good morning to you too, Guy." He chuckled and kissed my forehead back.

I set my gym bag down and skipped around the kitchen, making toast.

"Since when. Do you skip."

I turned around to find my brother of one aged difference to me, Abrahm, standing in the doorway, looking at me sarcastically.

I ignored him and sat down at the table, gobbling my toast up.

Abrahm came into the kitchen and pulled out a chair, sitting next to me and across from dad. He sighed and dug into the table with his elbows.

He looked stressed out. There were black circles under his eyes.

Pity for him struck me immediately.

"What's up, son?" Dad asked, worried as well. "U problems?"

Abraham slowly nodded, letting out a long "uggghhhhhhhh" groan.

Dad sighed then nodded understandingly. "C'mon, A, it's just the beginning of the first semester. Don't expect magic. It'll come, alright, and it'll make your day, okay? Just keep trying--trying'll pay off." Dad flashed him an encouraging look before grunting as he stood up. "Well I'mma go tinker with the car again, apparently there's a problem with the gas tank again."

"G'luck Da," Abrahm called after him, and I echoed.

Abraham stood up to make himself a bowl of cereal.

My brother is really obsessed with getting and finding the right university and I think it's getting to his head, 'cause like Dad said, it's just the beginning of the semester. But I can sorta feel him 'cause he got held back in fourth grade so actually he should've graduated already, before summer. So I guess he's worried that the fact of him doing fourth grade twice won't get him to a good U, which I gotta say is nonsense 'cause he's one of the smartest guys I know.

Hell, I wasn't even starting my college search yet; I mean it's barely the beginning of the second week of school; as I said the barely the beginning of the first fucking semester, I don't know why he's so impatient.

Abrahm sat back down across from me and stuffed a mouthful of cereal down his throat.

"I dunno what to do, Guy," he said after swallowing, "Hallee said she'd dump me if me and her didn't get into the same U. And knowing her, she'll probably get to a good one." He sighed, stuffing his mouth again.

"WHAT?!" I yelled, staring at him seriously. "Bro, I'd suggest dumping her n'then getting into Oxford if that's the card she's playing." I stood up to go wash my bowl.

"One, Guy, you know she's just saying that 'cause she doesn't believe in long-distance relationships and two, since when are you a love doctor."

"Since--" I dried my plate and put it on the rack then turned around to find him smirking at me.

Oh so you wanna play this game, aye bro?

"Oh, ha-ha, says the guy dumped eleven times with neither of which relationship lasting more than two months." I counted on my fingers to add the effect.

Abrahm pulled a face and gave me the middle one before downing his milk, but ha-ha I won.

He sidled up beside me and washed his bowl, then turned to me, wiping his milk mustache with his sleeve. "You want a ride to school? I could drive you since I'm about to leave too anyways."

"And the one carpooling this time is..?" I knew without doubt he was gonna smuggle in one of his guy friends too.

"Justin."

"No thanks."

"And why is that?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "Look, Guy, I know you have a game against the Sharks today and it's already--" He glanced at his watch, "--seven twenty so if you walk right now that's a guaranteed late-for-practice." He looked at me timingly.

I thought it over for a quick second then sighed. A'ight, I guess it was gonna have to do. Even if it meant sharing the same vehicle with Justin Bieber.

I mean Chaz or Ryan or any other of my brother's friends I don't mind so much 'cause I'm friends with them too but Justin. I dunno, I just don't like that guy too much.

"I'mma get my bag real quick hang on," my bro said and dashed up the stairs.

I picked up my gym bag and decided to wait for him next to the front door. Just as I reached it, there was a knock.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

I literally JUMPED OUT OF MY FUCKING SKIN.

Like who KNOCKS LIKE THAT??!!

I opened the door.

Justin Bieber does.