Muffin Love

Few Years Later

<Rayo's POV>

Ring ring! Ring ring!

"Ugh!" I grunted as I woke up in my bed, still lying down and wrapped up in my blanket.

I slapped my bedside table as hard as I can, trying to stop the irritating sound that seemed to be coming from there. It still wouldn't. Though, without any knowledge, I pushed my bedside table with strong force. It stumbled, falling sideways, papers spilling out of the drawers opening.

"No!" my sleepiness suddenly snapped away. I quickly jumped out of my bed, my bare feet touching the smooth, cold wooden floor, my hand reaching out to the bedside table. "My homework!"

I tried to carry it back to it's original position. It's so heavy! My brain complained. I huffed, still trying to bring it back up. Suddenly, my door opened. "Rayo?" it was my mom. "What's happening? I heard some noise--" she stopped and gasped as she sighted the stumbled brown cube, surfaced with a bunch of papers. "What did you do!?"

"I-I didn't know I pushed it that hard!"

"Who, on their right mind, would push their bedside table with their home works and grades in it!?"

"It's because there was something noisy in it, so I started hitting it and--!"

"Who on earth would hit their own bedside table as they wake up in the morning!?"

"No, wait! L-listen fir--" I stopped as someone suddenly stepped in the room.

"Are you guys fighting?" my dad scratched his head, still looking comfy in his blue robe and puffy, white slippers. His eyes visioned the stumbled brown table. "Wha-what happened there?" he pointed at it. "Did you and your mother fight?"

"No!" we simultaneously screamed.

"Okay, okay!" he raised his hands up like as if he was a caught fugitive who just escaped jail.

"Honey, can you help our son with this? My eyes are melting just looking at his crumpled grades and homework like as if it's just being dumped." My mom pleaded to my dad. Is she saying I dump Heavenly grades and Helpful homework in City Dumps?

Nuh-uh! (A/N: Sorry he sounds so sassy! Lul, all the sass tho)

After a minute or two, my usual parents went back to bed. I expected breakfast and everything, but they just...didn't.

Ring ring! Ring ring!

It's back. "Oh, what the--" I turned my head constantly around my whole room, still searching for where that stupid ear-irritation was coming from. "Argh!" I stressed out, my hands clasping my whole face. Though, that's when I realized something.

Your phone!

My phone!

I quickly scrambled out of my bed, my feet gliding in the wooden floor. I opened the drawer of my other bedside table and hurriedly grabbed my phone. No! I stomped my feet. I missed 2 calls from Ginger. Instead, I just decided to text her.

I'm so sorry :((

As I was about to add more, though I decided not to. Anyway, she already replied.

It's ok, I understand ;)

Phew, I calmed. Then she texted another:

Btw, can you meet me at the park? I'll be there at 8.

Eight? Eight!? It's almost Eight! Why would she be there at eight, knowing that I just probably woke up at eight? Why and how am I stressing over this eight?! Well, the more I stress over this gosh darn eight, the more I'll be there later than eight! Okay, now I conclude that the number eight is my bad luck number: it signifies pressure.

I rushed downstairs and grabbed my milk from the fridge and my cereal. I poured my milk clumsily and so did I with my cereal. I devoured it just like a humongous, terrifying, brown, furry monster that hasn't eaten in years. I stared at the time while eating, letting a bunch of milk spilling in my lap. I didn't mind. After, I got my toothbrush from my first floor bathroom and flooded it with toothpaste. I quickly stormed upstairs like a maniac and stuffed the toothbrush on my mouth. I finally got to my bedroom bathroom. I spat out all the mint and gurgled, water still spilling in my pajamas. I decided to just wash my face and change into whatever I found in my wardrobe. I texted my mom and dad that I just went to the park. I quickly walked to the park, still watching over my watch. I hated the smell of pollution.

"Hey," someone tapped my shoulder. It was Ginger. I didn't realize that I reached the park already.

"Oh, hey. Didn't see you there," I forced a smile.

"Anyway, I'll have to talk to you..."

I got curious. New boy? Bad grades? Don't want me anymore? "About what?"

"Erm... Let's sit on the bench." She pointed at one of the vacant benches by a tree. We walked toward it and sat side by side, occupying space so that no one else would sit. "Um, I have to..." She paused.

"Have to...what?"

"I have to...move." She said. I stared at her, perplexed.

"What?"

"No, I mean...move to a...new h-house." She gestured with her trembling hands.

I tried my best to look sad, when actually I would've sighed out all the carbon dioxide in relief.

"Look, I-I know it's really sad...but it can't do anything to our friendship," her eyes teared up a little, then she reassured me with a smile. "Here," she grabbed my wrist. "Let's make a promise. Let's promise to never ever separate whatsoever anymore. Anyway, we got this park," she swung her arms around the view like she was a tourist guide. "Promise?" she raised her right arm.

I had to. If I don't, she'll just be sad and blame me for eternal life. And maybe even haunt me for eternal life!

I nodded and just raised my right hand. Then, she placed hers down and pointed her pinkie to me. "Pinkie promise?" Okay, just do it. You don't believe in those stuff anyway, don't you? I let out my pinkie and intertwined it with hers. After, she just kept staring at me, like as if she was observing my face.

I tried to reassure her that I really am sad. "Don't worry. I swear, our friendship will be long enough 'till the end of college. Then that's when we're allowed." I forced a smile.
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