Men Are From Mars (1)

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“Good morning people of Lakeville! It looks like it’s going to be another beautiful day with a temperature high of-”

I slapped my alarm clock off before rolling over and snuggling down deeper into my comforter. It was the first day of summer and there was no way I was getting up yet.  The bedroom door slowly creaked open, but I chose to ignore it and slip back into my dreams.

“And here we have a classic example of the average American teenager in their natural habitat,” someone whispered in a silly australian accent that sounded like the crocodile hunter. “See how she lays around instead of starting her day? It’s a perfect example of laziness. Let’s see what happens if we provoke her.”

“Are you kidding me?” I groaned as a pillow whacked me. Annoyed, I cracked open my eyes trying to prevent the sting of the morning light. Ava Canter, my best friend, was standing over the bed with a video camera in hand.

“Ah it awakens!” Ava said dramatically before zooming in on me and my horrible mess of morning hair.

“Turn that off,” I complained. “It’s too early for this crap.”

“Crap?” Ava demanded pulling the blankets off, making me shiver. “Are you calling my art crap?”

“At this time in the morning it is,” I whined, pulling the covers back on.

“Aww come on, Bailey. You promised to help me with my film for the festival as soon as summer started,” Ava said putting down the camera.

“You never said anything about 7o’clock in the morning,” I replied as I buried my face in a pillow.

“But morning is when my creative juices are flowing,” Ava emphasized the morning part.

“Well, tell your creative juices to take a hike and come back around noon.”

“I’ll buy you breakfast on the boardwalk,” Ava sang, trying to bribe me.

My ears perked up. Nothing beats free food. “Fine, fine,” I said throwing my legs over the side of the bed dramatically so she knew that I still wasn't thrilled, “but only because of the waffles.”

Grumpy yet slightly awakened at the prospect of syrupy goodness, I went to brush my teeth. As I stood in front of the mirror, regret began to stir my sleepy bones: If only I hadn’t made that promise to Ava two months earlier.

We had been searching online for scholarships when Ava discovered one for taking first place at the fall film festival.  Ava had always been the artsy type and after taking a media production class freshman year she dreamed about becoming a famous director. Now Ava was never seen without a video camera. She begged me to help her make a documentary so she could win the scholarship.

“Would you shut that thing off?” I insisted, shoving my hand in front of the lens before I spit the toothpaste out of my mouth.

Ave ignored me and zoomed in on the sink. “I think making a documentary about everyday life might be interesting,” she said.

“The only person who is going to watch that is the mayor of Snoreville,” I said wiping my mouth on a towel.

“Ouch, that hurts,” Ava responded, finally shutting off the video.

“Yeah? So, does getting woken up at seven in the morning,” I shot back at her.

“You better get use to it,” Ava grinned, “because I need your help if I want to win this scholarship.”

 After changing out of my pajamas and grabbing my purse, we headed down to the boardwalk to meet up with Ava’s cousin Collin. Collin, who was staying with his cousin for the summer, seemed to have met the same horrible fate as I; he had been roped in by Ava to help with the documentary.

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