Chapter 28

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I slowly stir awake, blasting sounds coming from my alarm, getting louder and louder as I become more conscious. I groan covering my head with a pillow, but I can still hear the muffled blaring as I blindly hit my bedside table, trying to shut the damn thing off.

7 am.

If there is something I hate in this world, it is seeing that little number displayed on the screen of my phone when I'm forced to wake up in the morning, the brightness of the screen practically burning off my corneas.

I'm the complete opposite of a morning person, a night owl from birth. My mom always tells me that my first eleven months of my life were a nightmare for her and my dad. I'd sleep peacefully during the day and cry all through the night, keeping them sleep-deprived and in a zombified state. It appears my ways haven't changed much since then, I usually don't get tired until the early hours of the morning, unless I've been out drinking. During the day my energy tends to be lower, and if I rest my head anywhere for more than a millisecond, I'll instantly fall asleep. But at night all the lights in my brain come on and I feel as energized as if I had been chugging gallons of a mixture of coffee and Redbull. It's the time in which I'm the most creative and productive, a stream of ideas constantly rushing through my mind as I try to sleep, forcing me to pick up my phone and take down notes of the random things I come up with. It doesn't really help when I go to sleep at four am and have to wake up at seven to go to school. Hence my hatred towards my alarm and mornings in general.

Just a few more months and my suffering will be over. I can't believe I'm so close to graduating, and I'm itching for high school to finally be over, but at the same time, I'm terrified of what comes next. Shaking my head, I tuck that thought right back into its confined place in my mind where it rarely gets any attention.

I let out a yawn as I finally get off my bed, taking my sweet time stretching before I head towards the bathroom. The ceramic tiles are cold against my bare feet when I go in to turn on the shower. I look in the mirror and almost jump back, startled by my own reflection. My hair is a tangled mess, my skin looks grayish, and the circles under my eyes are darker than Johnny Depp's in Dark Shadows.

I rest my phone on the sink and put some music on before I get in the shower. I let the warm water wash off my exhaustion and I run my hands over my face, all the way back to my hair. As the water travels down my back, the image of Noah standing in my kitchen flashes in my mind. His frame bathed in sunlight, all shiny hair, snug T-shirt against his biceps, and lose joggers hanging low on his hips. A tingling feeling runs up my spine and sends heat rising to my face. I spin to face the faucet and turn on the cold water.

After that painful but much-needed shower, I walk back to my room with my bathrobe on and my hair wrapped in a towel. I skim through my closet and decide to go for a basic outfit for the day, a green crewneck sweatshirt, a pair of light wash jean shorts and my white sneakers.

I sit at my desk in front of my little mirror and toss my hair around as I give it a quick blow-dry. When I'm done with that, I stare at myself and notice I still look slightly dead, so I apply a little bit of concealer under my eyes and rummage through my makeup drawer for my mascara. As I start slowly applying it...

HONK HONK!

The startling sound of a car horn beeping almost causes me to stab my eye out with the mascara wand. I get up and walk over to the window, pulling the curtains open and sliding the glass up, the fresh air of the morning hitting me instantly. I look down to see a white Audi A3 with black tinted windows, and a gorgeous specimen of a man leaning against it.

"Morning," Noah greets me with a wide grin on his face, as he lifts two fingers to his forehead to casually salute me.

I'm suddenly in need of a second cold shower.

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