Stars' Song: Clef

Chapter 6 : Saunter

6-1

The first week of school is done, and just like any other week, this leads us to everyone's favorite day. I was sound asleep but was woken up by an alarm. You may ask, who sets the alarm during Saturdays? Well, it wasn't an alarm, but Chloe's phone call. Although these two served the same purpose.

I opened the house's main entry to see the blazing heat rays of the sun cover the road. In the foreground was a person protecting themselves from the sunlight with a dark blue umbrella. The figure turned in my direction as if alerted by the door locking into its hinges.

"Yo!" The girl under the umbrella was none other than Chloe. She waved her palm in front of her chest as her smile shone just like the sun. The thin, white sleeves of a cardigan swayed along with her arm. Hidden under the fabric were her bare shoulders, occasionally revealed by modest movements. In between the cardigan was a fit, black tank top covering Chloe's upper body. The beige sweatpants clung onto her long, slim legs and at the end of those bottoms were black ballet flats that gave shelter to her feet.

To adjust to the temperature, she wore the appropriate outfit. I'm not knowledgeable about clothes and what works best with what. If it's decent and comfortable, I'm fine with it.

"Hey," I replied, giving the doorknob a final twist to be secure.

"Is mom home?"

"Yeah, but she's still asleep."

"Wow. She's amazin'."

By 'mom', she meant my mother. My parents only come home during the weekends, though they're still inconsistent.

I opened my umbrella and moved. She strolled next to me before I went beyond her. We moseyed side by side, making our way to the bus stop past Sierra High. The route of the bus led us to a supermall. Going there may be overkill, but I doubt a convenience store could supply me with the things I needed, so it was necessary.

"Have ya eaten yet?" She fixated on the small watch wrapped around her wrist.

"Nope."

"Wanna eat brunch before we get groceries?" She leaned to the side while anticipating my reply.

"Sure. Who's turn is it to choose?" I asked, recalling the previous time we ate out.

"Me, right?" She aimed her index finger at herself.

"It's my turn, isn't it?" I retorted, raising one eyebrow higher than the other.

"No, no, we went for some Belgian waffles last time, and you would be the one to bring us there."

"Wait, no. The last time we went out was when we ate at Starbucks. Starbucks is a you thing."

"Excuse me?" Her free hand landed on her hip, her expression demonstrating hostility.

"W-why are you offended?"

"Anyway, that was before the waffles! It's my turn to choose, I'm sure of it!"

"How can you remember?"

I'm aware of her impressive memory—it can be terrifying in some instances—so I'll give up on this debate.

"Just because." For a split second, she directed her eyes to the side. "Anyway, I'm choosin' for us today, 'mmkay?"

"Fine, fine."

Besides the bothersome heat, it was a peaceful morning. Although I couldn't wait to get to the bus stop. If I was going to appreciate this day, I might as well appreciate it inside an air-conditioned bus.