I roll over in Justin's big bed, knowing he's not here. I sigh as I sit up, the sunlight blinding. I glance over at the clock and read 10:52. Great.
Checking my cellphone I see three missed calls from my mom, and another one coming through.
"Hello?" I sigh.
"What kind of daughter have a raised if she's not up by 10:30 am. Did you go on you're run?" My mother barks through the phone.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, Mrs. Boyle had us up at 9 am. I was in the shower when you called. Now Margy is showering," I blatantly lie, knowing Margy would cover for me as Mrs. Boyle, her maid that doesn't actually exsist.
"Once you're done with freshening up, what are your plans for today?" My mother asks sternly.
"Mr and Mrs. Greensdale should be back here soon. Margy says they wanted to take us to the museum," I reply.
"Which museum?" My mother rallies off another question.
"Mom, we only have one in town," I sigh.
"So they're not taking you out of town?"
"No mother," I groan. "I have to go, my phone is going to die and I lost my charger," I add.
"Did I raise you to misplace things, Eliza Belle Parker?" My mother shouts.
"It's not lady like to raise your voice, mother," I reply.
"Don't you start with me young lady, I-" Her voice stops as I press the end button on my fully charged phone.
That'll teach her to use my full name.
Now, where are my clothes?
I groan as I climb out of the bed, my feet pressing firmly to the ground. Justin needs to clean his room. Clothes are strewn every where and I can't pick out what's mine. My eyes scan the cluttered floor and spot my navy blue bookbag with brown leather straps.
I shuffle over to it and rip it open, my fingers dig and search through clothing articles because I can never decide what I'm going to wear one day, the night before. Finally I pull on a pair of ripped black skinny jeans and a gray and white plaid shirt. Pulling out my black wedges, I hear the front door opening.
Justin must be home, I think to myself as I tug on my shoes, sitting amidst the mess in the middle of his bedroom.
"Justin," A girl calls out. Excuse me?
My head snaps to the door as a brunette girl who, at the age of probably eighteen, as had one too many boob jobs, walks through the doorway.
"Who are you?" She raises a brow and places a perfectly manicured hand on her hip.
"More like who the hell are you?" I growl.
"I'm Justin's girlfriend," She smirks.
"I find it uncanny how many of you bimbo's think you're actually more than a booty call," I roll my eyes, standing up to tower over the skanky girl.
"So then who are you," She ignores my comment.
"You're worst nightmare," I reply as I pull back my arm, my hand wound in a tight grip as I release a sturdy punch to her fake nose. My ears catch the crunching sound followed by a shriek, her hands flying up to her bloody nose.
"You bitch!" She screams.
My left hand grabs my right as I position myself. I raise my right elbow and send it smashing into her mouth.
"Don't get blood in my boyfriend's apartment, he'll probably kill you," I smile sweetly as I push pass her.
Once in the hall of the apartment, I pull out my phone. My feet fly down the stairs I've walked a million times, as I dial Margy's number.
"What?" She groans, clearly hung over.
"Meet me at Barkley's, I'm bored and Justin bailed again," I sigh.
"Give me a bit," She grumbles and I hear her throwing up. I cringe, holding the phone away from my ear.
"See you soon," I shout before quickly hanging up as I exit the apartment building. I run my fingers through my hair before shoving my hands in my pockets and beginning the semi-short walk to Barkley's.
A small breeze blows through the town as everyone enjoy's their Saturday morning. I slip on my sunglasses as I attempt to block out the people around me.
A couple step out of Barkley's and I slip into the door just before it closes. I find a seat away from everyone and wait for Barkley.
"Usual?" Barkley smiles down at me from across the counter.
"Two coffee's," I grumble.
"Is Justin meeting you here?" He asks to which I shake my head.
"Margy," I correct. He nods knowingly as he turns away to get our coffee. Pulling out my phone I check my facebook, scrolling through the pointless bullshit littering my newsfeed.
"Oh God, I feel like crap," Margy huffs as she climbs into the seat next to me.
I look over at my heavily hungover friend, who is wearing sunglasses like me. Although she's mentally post party, her outfit is clearly pre-party. She wears black ripped tights, a denim skirt, white v-neck and black leather jacket, with flats.
"So what's the news?" Margy asks as Barkley slides our coffees in front of us.
She raises the porcelain white coffee mug to her bright red lipstick as she takes a sip of the steaming hot black liquid.
"As you know Justin wasn't there when I woke up. So when I was getting dressed this big boobed, fake nosed, skanky bimbo let herself in and was looking for him," I start. Margy set's her cup down and looks at me, her sass machine 9000 kicking on, fueled by her coffee.
"So she did the whole 'who are you, I'm his girlfriend' routine," I roll my eyes.
"And what'd you say?" Margy speaks up.
"I said 'I find it uncanny how many of you bimbo's think you're actually more than just a booty call'," I repeat.
"And then what happened?" Margy sipped her coffee.
"She asked again who I was, to which I replied with 'You're worst nightmare' and then I broke her nose and elbowed her in the mouth," I finally take a gulp of my own coffee.
"Classic," Margy smirks.
"God, I'm so hungover," Margy groans after taking another drink.
Just then I see a shadow to my left sliding up into the stool. Turning, I'm greeted by bright green eyes.
"Where you out all night drinking?" Charlie's eyebrows furrow together.
"No," I grunt.
"Well it's just, Margy is clearly hung over and you're both drinking coffee while wearing sunglasses inside," Charlie states the obvious.
Ignoring him, I take another sip of my drink.
"Look Mr. Charming, since when is it you're place to judge what we do or do not do? You don't know us, so leave us be." Margy snaps.
"I'd like to think I know Eliza pretty well," Charlie smiles at me.
"Try me," I scoff.
"Let's see, you're favorite color is the color of the ocean. You love boats and love to sail the ocean. You disagree with your mother quite a lot. You're liberal and she's proper which drives you insane. You like you're tea with a hint of lemon," Charlie's eyes are staring intensely at me.
"What are you some sort of psychologist?" Margy growls.
I stare at him for a while before Barkley approaches.
"Refill?" His scratchy old voice fills my ears and I shake my head.
Suddenly my phone goes off and I answer.
"Hello?"
"Hey babe, you free?" Justin's voice comes through my speaker, crystal clear.
"Why?" I snap.
"The boys and I were going to go shoot some hoops, I was wondering if you and Margy would come be our little cheerleaders," He snickers.
"What if we're busy?" I reply, my fists clenching.
"We'll you better get un-busy, or else little mother dearest isn't going to be too happy with her daughter and little ms. Greensdale," Justin's voice is taunting.
"We'll be there," I growl.
"Good, see you in a bit doll," Justin says a little too cheerily.
"Come on, Margy, Justin wants us to go to the basketball courts," I sigh, slipping my phone in my pocket.
"Un-busy? He's not just an asshole, he's also illiterate," Charlie speaks up.
"Will you stay out of my business?" I snap.
"What happened to you?" Charlie looks at me incredulously.
"Life." I grunt and Charlie scoffs.
"Life," He repeats, his eyes rolling back into his head as he leans away.
"And one more thing. You don't know me. I've never seen the ocean, let alone sailed it. And I don't drink tea," I snap ferociously as I get up from the counter.
"Come on, Margy," I turn on my heel and storm toward the door.
"I guess this time you changed," I faintly hear Charlie calmly reply before the door slams shut.