promise

chapter 1

I wake to the sound of 'I THINK' by Tyler the Creator pulsing from the speakers that are above my headboard. I paw around on my bedside table trying to find my glasses. I shove them on while grabbing my phone to push stop on the alarm. The music stops and a yawn escapes my mouth as I stretch my body. Forcing my legs over the side of my bed, my feet find my favorite, fuzzy light pink slippers waiting to welcome them with their warmth. I slide down from my bed with phone in hand checking last night's notifications.

Messages Yesterday, 11:32 p.m

jessica

ze gurls

y'all jordan just sent me a "you up" text, am i up?

willow

ze gurls

do you want to be up?

jessica

ze gurls

i mean kinda? but it's a sunday and i just saw him on friday

bri what do i say

willow

ze gurls

girl now we both know sabrina is asleep

just leave the message on delivered and respond in the morning

jessica

ze gurls

bet.

    Instagram

{sabrinaisateenagewitch}: andrewnotsograceful liked your picture

{sabrinaisateenagewitch}: robincantreid liked your picture

{sabrinaisateenagewitch}: will.power sent a post by sheloves_parker: pause luv,,,why he look kinda good

{sabrinatheteenagebitch}: kevinabstract just posted a photo

Co-Star

Quit being pretentious for a day, see where it gets you.

I scoff at the Co-Star notification. Me? Pretentious? Never. I hover my thumb over Willow's dm. It's a picture from Parker Evan's account and I'm not exactly sure if I want to see Parker's cockiness first thing in the morning. It's probably a sports-related picture or something featuring his girlfriend, Amber. Neither of which I'm interested in seeing at the moment. I shuffle myself to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day.

    I poke my contacts into my eyes, brush my teeth, and wash my face using Cetaphil's Moisturizing Cleanser. I yank my head bonnet off of my head and am exposed to the hair that I have to detangle. After combing through my mane for a few minutes, I trek back into my room to put on my uniform. The uniform basically puts itself on. I pull the gray skirt on over my freshly lotioned legs, rolling the fabric twice so it's not as long. I grab my burgundy Inglewood Preparatory Academy hoodie out of the pile that has started to accumulate on my floor. I slide my favorite white all-stars on and shove stray pieces of paper, my binder, and laptop all into my backpack. Next, I grab my keys, purse, and airpods before shutting off my bedroom light and closing the door.

    "Bri," my mom calls from down the hall "Please clean your room before I get home today. If you don't I'm raising ten types of hell when I get here. Oh and good morning." I roll my eyes. There is really no point in cleaning my room if it's just going to end up messy in two weeks time.