I Know it Sounds Cliche [kam high school au] [kotlc]

Chapter 1 | Start

Tam POV:

Darkness.

Dry throat.

Those were the first, and only, things Tam's brain could possibly process as he searched for the time.

3:46, the boxy, digital, letters blinked, softly illuminating the rectangular outline of the clock.

In realization of the hour, Tam groaned softly and languidly re-positioned himself. He was getting a little tired of this; waking up at 3 am nearly every morning almost made him want to throw something. Almost.

Determined to fall asleep, he squeezed his eyelids together, praying he wouldn't open them and see a face, or some other disgusting thing in the dark.

Since, of course, that's the first thing he thought of.

*

Tam inhaled sharply, feeling the shock of cold air rush through his lungs as he blinked himself awake. He lifted his head a few inches, squinted, and feebly tried to readjust the blanket that was now nearly wrapped around his upper half.

He glanced at the clock, taking a few seconds to concede the time; 7:43, it read.

Okay, almost 7:45.

For a moment he paused.

Oh...fuck, it's almost 7:45, Tam swore internally, slightly panicked.

School started in fifteen minutes, why the hell did his sister not wake him up?

Sure, it wasn't her job, but it would have been helpful.

Tam rolled over in attempt to get out of bed, and whined as the warmth that was previously against his back vanished. He warily glanced at the slightly worn hardwood flooring. Imagining how cold it would be on his already freezing feet made him want to cry, just a little.

Shifting into an upright position, Tam set his feet down hesitantly and cringed, still surprised from the chill. He ignored the knotted sheets as he stood, grabbed whatever items of clothing he saw first.

Tam yanked what he believed to be a short sleeved over his head as he walked across the house into the kitchen. Linh was, as usual, already prepared, and filling a bowl with cereal.

"Morning sleepyhead," she greeted, smiling warmly. "Now eat this and finish getting ready, mom and dad left for work a while ago. You have seven minutes, go."

Her soft smile had been replaced with a stern look as she pushed the bowl towards him, the bottom scraping loudly against the table top.

Tam opened his mouth to defend himself, but quickly closed it, obeying Linh's request. 

Demand.

Same difference.

*

Keefe POV:

Keefe's alarm clock screamed.

At least, that's what it sounded like.

He grunted, spitting out a clump of hair that had consequently found itself in his mouth, and aimlessly whacked at the satanic object.

Keefe dreaded every aspect of waking up. Some days, it felt like nothing in the world could give him enough energy to get out of bed.

His stomach made a muffled sound, as if in response to the previous thought.

Okay, one thing could make him want to get out of bed.

Key word: want.

He looked at the palm sized torture device beside him; 6:02. Did he want to get up? No. Should he get up? Well, maybe not now, per say.

Routine is key, his father's stiff voice echoed in his head.

Routine my ass, Keefe's mind shot back impulsively, defensive from the mere thought. Well, that's what he would have wanted to respond with.

Originally, he had set the clock so he could have plenty of time to fix his hair. But now, it was indirectly, more motivation to stay in bed. 'Routine' seemed to be impossible for him.

*

Keefe had no idea how long he spent laying there, but when he glanced back at his clock, the time read 6:47.

No time for a shower, then. He exhaled and thought about sitting, but mentally aborted before he had any time to commit to the idea.

Lazy, he chastised himself, and sighed at the, circular, black-rimmed light fixture, which was irritatingly enough, perfectly positioned in the center of his bedroom ceiling. Why he was bothered, was beyond him.

Having no better idea, he sluggishly rolled over to the edge of his bed, briefly confirming there were no hazardous objects waiting below, and rolled off. He hit the white carpet with a soft "Oof".

Pushing himself up and gathering the blankets that had, unfortunately, found themselves on the floor, he yawned and threw them back on the bed. Of course he'd fix the sheets, just, not now.

Several minutes later, Keefe found himself staring at his reflection in the bathroom.

Damn, I look tired, he observed, lightly studying his appearance. Which, could have been from the fact that his hair currently resembled a well-used shag carpet, but he was undecided whether the thought that it was probably just his hair, was truly reassuring or not. Deciding to not over complicate it, Keefe turned on the faucet and splashed his face, partially to redirect his thoughts.

Quickly combing, then fluffing, his soft, sandy blonde curls and adjusting his shirt, he glanced out the window at the foggy, dully colored sky. It was extremely uninteresting, but the trite, sentimental, part of him found it slightly relatable. He silently cringed at himself.

Keefe exhaled somewhat dramatically, the front of his hair fluffing up, then floating back down.

Well, time for another lovely... lovely, day. The thought was coated in sarcasm.

-

what thee f r I c k is this ✋

it's gonna start out so slow im sorry :l

can I say i don't like it-- its .+*mediumLy*+. disappointing. and when I say medium it's like that "medium hEaT" salsa that you buy at a generic @$$ grocery store that's actually spicy asf :D

legit everyone on wattpad says they hate their writing and it's just like sHuT uP STEpHanIe but I think I get it now 😀💅