I threw my head back, closing my eyes as it fell into my pillows. I took in a deep breath, held it in for five seconds, and then blew the air out harshly that the hair that had fallen into my face flew up before it fell to my face again.
I opened my eyes, and the plain white ceiling stared back at me. Suddenly, the cellphone that was resting on my bedside table vibrated, and I grabbed it without looking, immediately answering the phone.
"Morning, Hannah," Spencer's voice greeted me before I could say a word. "I kinda need your help."
I sat up, humming into the phone. "What is it?"
He sighed lightly. "It's about the project. I have the ring ready, but I have no idea how to propose to her."
It sounded so funny to keep hearing about my classmates talking about "proposing" to their partners—we were in high school for Pete's sake! So I chuckled at Spencer's distressed voice. "Well... do you have any starter ideas so far?"
"Well, I've been hanging out with her for a while, and from what I've gathered, Tracey's obsessed with white roses. So I'm already planning on buying her some of that," he said. "But that's about it. I don't even know how to surprise her. Do I just show up at her doorstep and shove the roses and the ring into her hands?"
I laughed at him. "God, Spencer. I don't know. I don't even know Tracey. Have you look up the internet? There must be some suggestion there."
"Well, not yet. Why didn't I think of the internet?" he asked to himself. "Anyway, have Gibbs proposed yet?"
I snorted, even though a part of me shuddered in delight at the words "Gibbs" and "proposed"—more specifically, proposed to me. "Far from it. We've only just started to tolerate each other yesterday."
"I wonder how he'll propose to you," he mused, and I blushed to myself again.
"I wonder too," I echoed softly. "Anyway, does she like some specific snacks? Candies? Or something?"
"Well... she always plop a hershey's every ten minutes whenever she's with me, in the classroom or not."
I grinned. "Then that's it! Put a bunch of hershey's in a box, and put your ring in the box as well. Tell her that you want to share the chocolate with her, and wait until she finally finds the ring. Don't put too much hershey's though—it'd take too long for her to find the ring."
"That's... actually a cute idea," he said. "Thank you so much, Hannah," he added with a laugh.
"No problemo, Spence," I replied. "When and where are you gonna propose?"
"Actually... I was thinking to propose to her at the diner, is that okay?" he asked. "I'll take her there after school tomorrow and I'll just... maybe pretend like I want to get to know her for the proposal. We'll talk, have some drink, and we'll eat chocolate and then, bam!"
"I wanna see it!" I told him. "Can I see it?"
"Of course!" he said. "Maybe you can help me record it and bring out the roses after she found the ring?"
"Sure, I'd love to," I replied excitedly. "So, it's settled then? You're gonna propose tomorrow at the diner?"
"Yup," he said, and I could imagine him bobbing his head up and down. "Hopefully she'll like it."
"Of course she will," I encouraged. "Mr. Herberg would surely love watching it too."
He gave a light laugh. "I think he's secretly a hopeless romantic."
"Not secretly. He is a hopeless romantic. Or maybe just a creep. Who knows?"
He laughed a bit louder. "Okay, then. Thanks for your help, Han. I owe it to you. See you tomorrow."
"It's fine, see you!"
After we hung up, I fell back again into my pillows. This time, there was only thing in my mind:
What did Jonah have in plan for the proposal? If he was planning at all. I mean, we haven't talked about it. Should I do it?
My heart thumped loudly at that thought, and I shoved my face into my pillows to hide my smile.
Not wanting to smile like an idiot for too long, I jumped out of my bed and immediately took a shower—Sunday mornings called for a lazy day. I got out of the bathroom a few minutes later, my body wrapped in a white towel, as well as my wet hair. I untwisted the towel from my hair and let it fall down as I stared at myself in front of my mirror.
I tilted my head to the side, letting my hair fall to my right. I ran a hand down my wet red/blonde/orange-ish hair, and my lips lifted up into a small smile. Looking at my hair always reminded me of Jonah and the soda and I always wanted to laugh every time.
I turned to my closet and grabbed my undergarments, immediately slipping into them. As I searched for something to wear, my eyes fell at the sight of a white shirt that was a few sizes too big for me, a faint island of red right in the middle.
It was Jonah's. After he'd thrown his wet shirt onto the ground, I picked it up without anyone realizing, and took it home with me. After I got my hair dyed and got home, I attempted everything I could think of to get rid of the stain. I even looked up the internet—and I didn't even bother to look up the internet on how to get rid of the soda from my hair! But I'd done everything I could, and even after what felt like the hundredth attempt, the faint red was still there.
I felt kinda bad about it, of course I did. But Jonah had thrown away the shirt anyway, and the outcome of the soda incident was worth it. At least to me, it was.
I grabbed the shirt and buried my face on it, the giddy smile freeing itself all over my face. I'd got a piece of Jonah in my hands—quite literally—and I loved the shirt nearly as much as I loved the guy who owned it himself. Call me crazy, I wouldn't even care.
Of course, there was no longer the smell of Jonah on the shirt—it smelled like faint bleach and my mom's flower-scented detergent.
But because I was crazy, I slipped into the white shirt, as well as a pair of short shorts. I felt a little closer to Jonah because, well, I was inside his shirt. It was oddly comforting. So I hugged myself and fell into the bed.