colds and casseroles
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I can't believe I have a cold. Not that I'm complaining or anything since I'm missing six hours of torture back in John Quincy Adams High School - my heart is with you, Riles - but I absolutely hate colds. I don't even get how people can get cold in the middle of summer. Honestly, how does that even happen? And colds are the worst because you waste so much paper blowing your sniffly nose into the 1-ply tissue paper that your mother gives you to use, proceeding to break the thin piece of fabric holding your snot, resulting in a wonderful snot filled floor. Great.
Since I have nothing better to do, I go out to the living room to put on some Harry Potter. Yeah, so I like Harry Potter? Actually, I absolutely love it and I hope you don't have a problem with that.
As I'm halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the door bell rings and I look at the time. Ooh, it's already a half hour past school hours. It's probably Riles and the guys.
I open my door hopefully, only to see my mother holding a plastic bag of greasy food.
"Oh, it's only you." I sigh disappointedly.
She purses her lips and raises a questioning eyebrow before proceeding to ask me, "Who're you expecting, darling?"
"The usual gang,"
"Oh. Also, Maya sweetie, I brought you back your favorite tuna casserole to cheer you up and make you feel better about the cold!" She gives me a reassuring smile before heading to the door. "Bye, honey, wouldn't want to be late for work after lunch hour!"
As soon as she leaves, I unpause the movie and glance at my tuna casserole questioningly. Should I eat it? I mean, it is my favorite food and all, but I have a cold, don't I? You know what? I don't care. So, I unwrap the casserole in one swift motion, tossing the paper onto the marble floor (I'll pick that up later, okay, mom?) and realizing I don't have a plate. Dammit. Here I am, sniffly Maya Hart holding a greasy tuna casserole in one hand, my other hand holding the tv remote. Wow, I must look like a mess, huh?
I carefully place the remote onto the table in front of me and walk to the kitchen to grab a plate. But just as I'm walking back to the couch to watch the movie again, the doorbell rings and startles me, causing me to jump and drop my poor casserole on the floor. I grumble, cursing under my breath, before storming over to the door, swinging it open and glaring at the three faces stood outside eyeing me wrapped in my cosy only-for-colds blanket.
"You had better help me clean up the mess you've just cost me." I frown, looking at my poor casserole on the floor. Rest in pieces, my dear casserole.
Lucas just stands there, laughing away and snorting, "You're so stupid, no wonder they call you Clutterbucket."
"Haha. It must be because you're rubbing off me, Friar." I reply, rolling my eyes at him.
Lucas narrows his eyes at me and excuses himself to the toilet. Excuses so he wouldn't have to help me clean up.
"Wait, why do you have to bring your bag to the toilet?" I ask him, pointing at his school bag that he was clutching really tightly onto.
"Um, it's none of your business," he answers quickly before scurrying to the toilet.
Farkle and Riley help to clean up the squished casserole from the floor and Lucas comes back, a very satisfied look on his face. Wow, he must have taken a huge doodie to be that happy with himself. Barf. And the next hour consists of Farkle spoiling the entire movie as if we haven't watched it before, Lucas actually admitting that he hadn't watched it before, and Riley hiding behind the couch in fear of anybody being murdered. My friends are great, aren't they? That's a rhetorical question, don't answer it.
Fortunately, I'm all better the next day. My mum's left me a note on the counter: Got to leave to work early today, have a good day at school today, honey, glad you're feeling better! Love, mom. Oh, and by the way, don't tell her about the whole casserole thing, I told her it was absolutely delicious. Come to think of it, maybe I got better because I didn't eat the casserole. Hm.
I get out of bed and proceed to shower. I shampoo my hair first. Fun fact: I use a different shampoo from my mother because we like different scents. I like pink lemonade and she likes cucumber and grapefruit. After my shower, I clamber out, dress myself and look myself in the mirror. Wait, I look a little different, but I can't really put a finger on it. Did the cold really affect me that much?
Outfit? Check.
Lip balm? Check.
That's when it hits me. Hard. My hair was absolutely pink. Oh my God. Has the shampoo expired that quickly? Panicking, I grab the shampoo bottle from inside the shower and read it. Hey Maya, I bet you look as badass as never now! Hope you like my little get well soon surprise! Love, Lucas. P.S. It's only temporary, don't worry, for a whole week!
What a prick. I can't believe he changed my pink lemonade shampoo to a girly pink hair dye. Even worse, I can't believe I haven't noticed. He was right, I'm so frickin' stupid. And it's not like I can wash this pinkness off my hair. Looks like it's staying with me for this week. So I pull my hair back into a tight ponytail and tuck all my hair back into a SnapBack. And not caring if it's a really hot day, I throw on a hoodie and put the hood above my cap. Yes, I know, I look like a gangster, but tell me that's not as bad as wearing a glittery unicorn sweater to match with a sparkly bow tie in my artificially pink hair.
When I go to school, Huckleberry is standing by my locker, smirking.
"I need to get my books."
He raises his eyebrows at me amusedly. "So?"
"So get out of the way," I deadpan.
"Or else what? You'll whip me with that scary pink hair of yours?"
"Or else this." I violently push him aside and punch in my locker combination.
"Intimidating." He snorts. "But not as intimidating as the pink hair you're hiding under there."
I scowl at him and fortunately for him, Riley comes smiling in an outfit that seems far more comfortable than mine: a bright tank top and skinny jeans.
"Maya, if you were sick, you didn't have to come to school today!" She frowns, eyeing my outfit.
"Well, Riles, you see, " I sigh, "your boyfriend here changed my shampoo to hair dye yesterday, so now my hair looks like bubblegum."
Riley gasps and glares at Lucas, folding her arms across her chest. "You're a jerk, Lucas! And he's not my boyfriend, I don't even like him."
He feigns shock and gasps with exaggeration. "I'm hurt, Riley, I truly am." And with that, he laughs and stalks away to homeroom.
"Now I think I understand the urges you feel to take revenge on him," Riley finally says before grinning at me, a mischievous spark glinting in her chestnut eyes.
Seven year old Riley had invited me to her house for a play date, something seven year old me wasn't quite familiar with. I didn't have a lot of friends at the time. People used to think I was scary, what with my tendency to punch people I didn't like. Come to think of it, I guess that's a valid reason to be afraid of me for. But on with the story, we hadn't been official best friends yet. We were just two seven year olds without best friends hanging out together. So you can imagine my surprise when Riley asks me to come to her house for a play date. Well, I wasn't exactly a busy girl so I agreed, much to Riley's excitement.
When I arrived at her house, she was jumping up and down with excitement. But when she saw me, she clambered down from the couch and darted over to my side, discreetly asking me if I wanted to play "spy". Of course seven year old Maya wanted to dodge bullets and punch people in the face, but unfortunately, "spy" was just a fancy name for hide and seek. Nevertheless, we had fun, giving each other the nicknames: Agent M and Agent R. But at the end of the play date, I saw a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, a cheeky grin plastered onto her cherubic seven year old face, her hands behind her back. Little did I know she was holding an entire bucket of water! Well, she splashed the entire thing onto my head and ever since then, we'd been inseparable. We were playground official.
"I hope you still have that spy clothing from that Mission Impossible phase back in middle school." I tease, punching her in the shoulder.
"Welcome back, Agent R."
"Glad to be back, Agent M."
We're back in the game, baby.
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a/n:
oooh riley's in the game now! never thought riley matthews would be a part of this, did ya? anyways, i like needed to include harry potter because it is my bae