He's Worth It ~ Lams (COMPLETE)

Day Seven

AHHHHHH SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER AND THE LAST LONG CHAPTER

scary

edited

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I set my phone's alarm last night for 6:15 am. I have a perfect plan that couldn't possibly go wrong. It goes off and my eyes flutter open. I slide my hand out from under the covers and absentmindedly tap my phone screen until it falls off of my side table, still buzzing against the carpet loudly and screeching in my ears. I roll myself off of my bed, taking the blankets with me. My eyes are still closed as I mindlessly search for my phone that's now underneath both me and the pile of blankets. The alarm continues to blare in my face until I finally grab a hold of the digital rectangle and press the proper button. The beeping stops, and silence hangs in the air. I really hope I didn't just wake everyone up.

When I don't hear any footsteps or the sound of any doors opening, I take that as my time to make a move. I tiptoe over to Lafayette's room with my phone in hand, constantly checking the time with a sly grin on my face. It's time.

I burst through Lafayette's door and scream "WAKE UP GILBERT!" at the top of my lungs. I expect him to groan and turn over, because that's what I do when he interrupts my slumber, but he snaps up and smiles.

"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YEARS FOR SOMEONE TO WAKE ME UP LIKE THIS!" He exclaims loudly, stretching his arms and jumping out of bed. He squeezes me into a tight hug while I'm confused as all hell. Well, I'm usually confused when it comes to him, anyway. I reach up and pat his head slowly.

He laughs and squeezes my waist as hard as he can before he lets go. I bat away his hand and cough from his tight hug. Lafayette simply laughs again and pulls me into the bathroom.

"Now get ready, little lion, we don't have all day. You want to see your boyfriend, don't you?" He exclaims happily through his toothbrush. I glance at him through my side eye before looking back to my own mirror.

"That's a new nickname," I say, and he beams with teeth covered in blue toothpaste.

"Well, when you come out of your turtle shell, you're really like a lion." He says without any further explanation. I shrug to myself and choose to not delve into what he might be talking about. I think about the rest of his sentence and realize what he finished with.

I swat his shoulder as my cheeks go pink. "Hey!"

He lets out a laugh and rinses his toothbrush under the faucet while I stand with steam radiating off of my face. I shake off the embarrassment and follow him out of the bathroom. I swerve off to my room and decide that I'm going to wear something presentable today, because I feel unnaturally spiffy and the boycott is almost over. I then find out that I have virtually nothing 'spiffy' in the front of my closet, so I dig into the back and find jeans and a nice (only a little bit wrinkled) t-shirt with a band on it that I actually listen to. I trot downstairs and pull out Lafayette's Timberlands from the shoe closet. I place them by the door with my backpack, jacket, hat, and gloves. Although I've lived here for quite some time, my Caribbean-ness is still not diluted enough for me to be ok with the cold. My phone says it's supposed to be a high of 35 today, but my skin registers that as in the negatives.

I meet Lafayette in the kitchen, where we eat our breakfasts in comfortable silence and I make myself a cup of coffee. I take a travel mug out from the cabinets and gently close the door behind me. Once my coffee is secure, I turn to Lafayette just as he's clattering his bowl in the sink. He takes his pills with a cup of water and the cup has the same fate as the bowl.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, and I nod my head.

We drive to school together, the car full of unexpected cheerfulness about the upcoming week. There's only two actual days of school, today and tomorrow, and then we have Thanksgiving break. Thanksgiving is always an interesting holiday at our house. George and Martha always host the dinner with their work and family friends, most of whom have kids. The Schuylers always come, because Mr. Schuyler and Geroge are like brothers from another mother. People their age just like to gossip about things, and most of their friends aren't even actual friends. It's more so of an 'acquaintance' thing where they all secretly talk down about you behind their back. I just hole up in my room the entire time and turn the music up full blast so I can't hear other people's terrible-yet-intentional whispering skills.