Monday, October 5th, 2014
6:51 A.M.
"Hello? Earth to sleepyhead! Wake up, Alyssa, you slept through your alarm!"
She has to say this twice before I actually hear and interpret it as human speech. Yawning, feeling groggy and completely unwilling to get out of this bed, I stretch my arms straight up in the air and hold them there extended for about five seconds. Everything is still hazy. The cloudiness of sleep is still enveloping me.
"Alyssa! Did you hear me?" my mom calls again. Her voice sounds close yet distant; she's probably at the foot of the stairs. "I have your and Jesse's breakfast ready, so get up, get dressed, and c'mon down!"
"Okay, okay, I'll be down!" I call back. Only now am I finally gathering the motivation to climb off my bed, and even that's a slow process. I trudge over to my closet, feeling like a zombie, and absentmindedly pull out the first shirt and pants I see.
"Hey, they even match. Nice," I mutter to myself. I quickly shed my PJs and change, then head to the bathroom to run a comb through my hair. It doesn't look great, but it doesn't look horrible, either. Mediocre will have to do for now.
About five minutes later, I've made my way downstairs and am greeted by my mom, who's surprisingly smiling, sitting at the other end of our small dining room table next to my three-year-old cousin, Jesse. I say small because, well, it just looks small because it used to seat four people. And now, of course, it only seats three.
"Morning, hun. I'm guessing you didn't sleep well last night?" my mom inquires, handing Jesse his sippy cup. "I had to call you three times before you heard me!"
In response, I just shrug. "I slept okay, I think. Getting up early is just...not easy."
"How easy do you think it is for me to get up a half hour before you, just to make sure you and Jesse're up?" she teases. "Earlybird life isn't easy, genie. But sadly, we have no choice."
I always smile when she calls me genie. It's not only my family nickname, but it's what Dad used to call me--he came up with it when I was around six. Why? Simple. I was obsessed with Aladdin as a kid, and it's still one of my all-time favorite movies. And, of course, the nickname still stands. I don't mind it.
"Maybe if school didn't always start at such a demented time," I say. "Like, seriously? How many kids are alert and ready to learn at eight in the morning? On a Monday, nonetheless?"
My mom laughs. "Well, what are you going to do."
"Complain" is my kurt response. I'm only half joking. "Maybe cry."
"All right, drama queen," my mom responds. "Just eat your breakfast, then complain after."
And this is why I love my mom.
Once I'm done, I gather all my school stuff sitting on the counter, shove it all in my backpack, then run back upstairs to put on concealer and pick out my shoes. It takes me less than five minutes to do both of those, but still, my mom calls me again and tells me to hurry. She also tells me not to fall back to sleep up there. I ignore that part.
"Wait, Lyss! While you're up there, could you grab my purse? It's on my dresser!" my mom calls, just as I reach the top of the stairs. I roll my eyes and groan, but of course I do it. I'm not that much of a brat.
Only once I get downstairs and we're heading out to the car do I act like we're running late all because I had to get her purse. I only meant it as a joke, but she seems to actually believe it. After she straps Jesse into his car seat, she gets the car running faster than I've ever seen her, and once we pull out of the driveway and start driving, I notice she's going almost ten miles above the speed limit. We don't talk much on the drive there, despite neither of us being in a crappy mood. Once my mom is determined, I figure it's best to just let her concentrate.
And because of that, I get to school in record time. I'm still running a little late, which was entirely my fault for waking up so late, but it's earlier than I thought it would be. As she pulls up in front of the school, I see that everyone has already gone inside. I'd better hurry.
"See you, Mom," I quickly say, swinging my backpack over one shoulder and thrusting open the car door with one hand. "Don't let Jess be late for preschool because of me."
She chuckles lightly. "I'll do my best, genie. Have a good day at school."
"Yeah, I will. Bye, guys," I say quickly, leaning back to give Jesse a kiss on the forehead before closing the passenger door.
I wave at her as she pulls away, hearing the engine roar behind me, and as I skip onto the sidewalk, I find myself gazing up at the massively tall building known as West Aspen High School in admiration. It's a daily routine I've found myself doing almost every day since I started going here, and I think it has reason to it. Our school, like many others in Colorado, is almost laughably huge; it's a miracle I actually learned my way around this castle. Thus, I'm kind of amazed by it. Thus thus, I tend to stare.
I speedwalk to the big front doors, looking a little stupid as I do so, and once I get there I run into a nice boy holding them open for me. As I approach him, he grins kindly and gestures for me to go through before him. I do just that, smiling back at him in return.
"A gentleman at our school? Wow, who knew," I say jokingly. Attractive-sounding laughter follows.
"What, am I the first?" he asks, likely rhetorically. He follows me inside and lets the doors close behind him. "I'm honored, nonetheless."
"Oh, don't be. It's a joke for a reason."
"Aw, so I'm not a gentleman? That sucks."
I stop walking, and following suit, so does he. Weirdly enough, I don't even know this kid's name. "Hold on. Do I know you? I swear, you look familiar, but you also don't."
"I get that a lot," he replies. I raise my eyebrows.
"Really?"
I must have caught him in his bluff. "Uh, no, actually. Not really. But if you're asking, my name's Danny. Danny Upshur."
Upshur. I run the name through my head and feel a subtle shiver travel down my spine. Where have I heard that name before?
"What?" I find myself stupidly asking. He looks at me like I'm just that: stupid.
"I said, my name's Danny. And you?"
"I'll tell you once we start walking again. We're going to be late for homeroom," I say, quickly regaining my composure and confidence. I start walking again and he follows beside me; I wonder if he's just doing that or he actually has to go the same way I am.
"So?" he prompts me again, just as we turn a corner into an empty hallway. "Now you've got me curious."
"I'm Alyssa," I say, not even a beat after he finished his sentence. "What grade are you in? You can't be in mine, or I'd know you for sure."
"I don't know, are you a sophomore?" he asks. Invisibly to him, my eyes widen the slightest bit, but I don't slow my pace.
"Yeah," I answer tentatively, briefly confused. "That's...strange. How do I not know someone from my own class?"
"It's okay; don't feel stupid. I just moved from Denver to Aspen last summer, and our class is frickin' huge. I don't blame you."
"Still," I say, thinking back to freshman year and all the faces I encountered. Apparently, never once his. "That's weird. You hid from me."
Laughter follows, just as smooth and attractive as before. "Well, I didn't try. But honestly, I wish I wouldn't have. You seem like someone worth getting to know."
"Are you trying to flirt with me, boy I literally just met?" I ask him, only half joking.
"Not really," he says, surprisingly sounding pretty honest. "Would you think it's flirting if I tell you that you seem nice?"
I catch myself smiling, and though I try to hide it, I have trouble doing so. I stare at my feet as I walk. "No, I guess not. I'd call that a compliment."
"Cool. 'Cause I'm good at those. Not so much on the flirting front," he says. "Alyssa, right?"
"Yup," I say. "But most of my friends call me Lyss. You know, just for short."
"Ah. Can I call you that?"
"I don't know; are we friends?"
The two of us mutually slow to a stop near an empty row of lockers, and he leans against the nearest wall, his backpack pushing him forward. We're right near my homeroom; I can see it from where we're standing. So I don't mind stopping here. I'm already late, anyway.
"We could be," he says, sounding relaxed. "I don't see why not. You can never have too many."
"Oh, so you're Mr. Popular, huh? Got a whole pack with you?"
"I mean, I wouldn't call myself popular. Believe it or not, I don't actually like loads of attention. How about you?"
"Are you asking if I'm popular, or if I like attention?"
He pauses a moment. "I don't know, both?"
"Okay, then no and no. I...I actually hate attention," I say. I think back to last year, when everyone kept badgering me about my father left and right. I'm surprised Danny never caught wind of that. "I try to stick to the shadows, mainly."
"I totally get that. So do I," he agrees. "But hey, you never gave me an answer. Friends, or not friends?"
"Why don't we decide that at lunch?" I find myself asking him. "Oh, God. Was that too forward? I'm sorry."
"No, not at all," he quickly assures me. "That'd be cool. Where do you sit?"
"Um, typically with my friends. One of the corner tables in the back, usually," I explain. "You can look for Grace Talon, if you know her. She always sits with me."
"I do know her," he says. "You don't think they'll care?"
"I doubt it. And even so, it's not like they can stop me from inviting new people," I say. Looking up at him, I slowly begin to process how...good-looking this boy is. Immediately, I feel my cheeks heating up, and I turn away again. "So, you're in?"
"I'm in," he says with a grin, just as the late bell rings and echoes loudly throughout the school. "Nice to meet you, Alyssa. See you later."
"Bye" is all I can get out, as he's already left my side and is strolling down the hallway, past my homeroom and probably on the way to his. For a reason unknown to me, I watch him go. I only stop when he takes a left and I can't see him anymore.
Do I...Do I already have a crush?
I shake my head immediately to erase the stupid thought. What kind of stupid question is that? I literally just met this boy, less than ten minutes ago. It isn't a crush; I just think he's cute. Girls' brains just don't know how to differentiate between the two.
Then, I remember that Danny left for a reason; the two of us are tardy as hell, and me even more so. Grabbing hold of my backpack strap, I quickly rush down the hallway and to my homeroom, where a locked door is waiting for me. Peering in the tiny window, I see my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Tremore, already taking attendance. Quietly, I knock twice with my knuckles, which catches her attention. She doesn't look happy.
The nice girl who sits in front of me, Jamie Snyder, gets up from her seat and opens the door for me. Every pair of eyes is on me as I do the walk of shame to my seat beside Grace, (yep, she's in my homeroom) and I hear a few girls snicker as I sit down. I just roll my eyes, and Mrs. Tremore keeps taking attendance. Grace turns to me and grabs my sleeve excitedly.
"Well?" she whisper-asks. Puzzled, I stare at her.
"What?"
"Don't 'what' me! You know what."
"I really don't. What is it, Grace?"
She abruptly goes quiet, and a mischievous grin creeps across her face as she leans in close to me. "Do you really think you can get Danny Upshur, Lyss?"
I feel my muscles tensing up, and my stomach tightening. That name, again, just doesn't sit right with me. Part of me feels like it had something to do with my father, but I don't know what. Whatever it is, though, it's not giving off a pleasant aura.
"What are you talking about?" I ask her after a moment. "I'm not trying to 'get' anyone."
Grace snickers. "Don't you lie to me. I saw you guys walk past our homeroom, talking. Decent reason to be late if you ask me."
"So? We were just talking. Aren't boys and girls allowed to walk and talk without being called a couple?"
"Not when it's Danny Upshur," she retorts with a giggle. "That kid is gorgeous, girl. I'm jealous."
"Shut up, Grace," I hiss, only half joking. "We were literally just talking. He held the door open for me, so we just--"
"Aww!" she exclaims, quickly grabbing the attention of the people sitting around us. "What a gentleman."
"That's exactly what I said," I tell her. "But Grace, we--"
"Lyss and Danny sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n--"
"What grade are you in, first?" I snap. "C'mon, Grace, cut it out."
"Oh, Lyss, don't be such a--"
"Miss Talon? Is there something you'd like to share?" my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Tremore, interjects. The whole class goes quiet, and every pair of eyes is now on my friend. Her face flushes bright red.
"Uh, no. Nothing," she quickly spurts. "Nothing to share."
Mrs. Tremore gives her a lingering glare, then continues taking attendance without another word. Now silent at our table, Grace pulls out her planner and starts mindlessly flipping through it, obviously just to avoid the stares of our classmates. I don't have anything to busy myself with except my thoughts. And, well, I've kind of got myself thinking.
Yeah, sure, Grace teased me about Danny. And of course I defended it, but I mean...he was really, really cute. It might be nice to get to know him a little more.
Oh, God--I didn't even tell her I invited him to sit with us at lunch. Not that she'll have a problem with it, but if this is how she teases me after just seeing me walking with him? Oh, geez. Needless to say, this could end up being the most embarrassing lunch of my whole life.
I can't wait.