Serendipity

Two Left Feet.

A/N:
If there was anybody reading this story in the first place, they probably gave up after I didn't update in 7 months.

Well, better late than never, I guess. So I'm posting this chapter on Valentine's Day, it kind of fits too.
(Eeeeee. No spoilers.)
Have a great Valentine's Day everyone.

The alarm starts blaring straight into my left ear while I'm in that blissful state of half sleep between dreaming and waking. I wish this feeling would never end. The alarm however is unaffected by this and continues to blare.

I have a vague feeling that I was dreaming about fascist unicorns planning world domination, as I absentmindedly scratch my cheek, squinting at the sunlight that is pouring into my room.

(Yes. My subconscious needs therapy)

I don't feel like going to school this morning. Then again, I don't feel like going to school, any morning. To be honest, it's the morning that bothers me, not the school. If I was the President of my country, I'd revise the system so that the ordinary workday starts at noon. I'd make breakfast extinct and introduce my citizens to the sheer brilliance that is brunch. I'd outlaw alarm clocks and roosters and all other things that encourage the institution of waking up early.

I am not exactly a morning person.

(You don't say.)

After a long, hot shower, I feel slightly less annoyed at everyone and everything. While I'm staring into the depths of my wardrobe, contemplating what to wear, my phone beeps and lights up. It's probably Z, urging me to wake up and get ready. Ha. The joke's on her today.  I quickly squeeze into a black sweatshirt and jeans and then stare critically at my unruly mane, in the mirror. I run a brush through it, which helps in no way at all. Now I look like my head is on fire.

Downstairs, at the breakfast table I unlock my phone.

One new message from Sky.

I almost throw my phone out the window in surprise. Last night's events, which I had completely forgotten, now flood my mind. Being in his room, the entirely embarrassing chest-staring fiasco, our conversation on my lawn, him asking for a second chance.

I hadn't thought about this last night but were we friends now or something more? Or maybe nothing at all? Had anything changed? I was dying to see him again, if only to see his messy hair that simultaneously makes me want to stroke it softly and attack it with gardening shears. I wonder if he will ever open up again like he did last night.

I replay the scene in my mind, as I sip some orange juice,

 

"I push people away" in my mind his voice is even softer than it usually is. He runs his hand through his dark hair. His eyes are dark with hidden sorrows. His chest is heaving with the intensity of emotion. My line of sight travels lower,

and lands on

his lurid red, floral shorts.

"Hey Jay-", my sister's voice is cut off as I spray her with freshly squeezed orange juice as I simultaneously snort, laugh and choke.

I heave and grunt like an asthmatic sea lion while my sister stands there sputtering in disbelief..

"JADE?! WHAT THE-"

she screams.

It is warranted, to be honest, because I've just destroyed the new blazer she bought for work.

I'm laughing and crying and apologizing all at the same time. She just shakes her head and stalks off.

Still mildly choked, I read the message from Sky.