A Boy and A Girl

Chapter 14 ゜ ✭ ・.

Point of View: Bailey

Bailey jumped up with a gasp to the sound of his alarm blaring next to his face. He was still shaking and knew that it couldn't just be shock from the alarm. It only took a few seconds for the memory of his dream to come back, and he groaned, pressing his face into his hands.

"That nightmare again..." he murmured sleepily as he stood on shaky legs and stumbled over to his dresser, frustrated that he hadn't gotten his clothes out the night before and still shaken from the vivid image in his head of his father catching him with makeup on and yelling at him, calling him all sorts of names.

"Stop." He huffed to himself, tossing his pajamas over to his bed and putting on the T-shirt he wanted to wear for school that day, a pale pink one with some quote on it. His mom bought it for him a year ago and it still fit. He decided to change things up just a little bit and put on his ripped blue jeans instead of the basketball shorts he wore every day.

He walked over to a small pile of clothes, his hoodies and sweaters. 'Well,' he thought, 'since I've already changed it up and wore my blue jeans, might as well wear that sweater I never touched after I bought it.'

He picked up a white sweater, not too thick but enough to keep him from getting cold, and pulled it over his head. He felt a small grin spread across his lips and had to admit that he liked that sweater.

Bailey grabbed his pair of white tennis shoes and walked down the hallway with them in hand, following his parents' no shoes in the house rule. He set them by the door before walking to the kitchen and opening various cabinets in search of the Captain Crunch. His dad always put the box back up in a different cabinet, making it hard to find.

"Ah, there." He said aloud when his eyes locked on the box. They were the only kind he liked, the 'Oops, All Berries' version.

Cereal box in one hand, he used the other to open up the dishwasher and then grab a bowl and spoon, all with one hand. He set the bowl down on the dining room table and shook the multicolored cereal into it, then put the box back up into the cabinet and opened the fridge. He grabbed the 2% milk and then poured it into the bowl as well.

Bailey put the milk back into the fridge before sitting down at the table and rubbed his eyes groggily. The breakfast routine was just muscle memory to him by now, and his brain still hadn't fully woken up. He scooped a few bites of cereal into his mouth. After a moment of eating, his eyes began to feel heavy. He blinked.

His eyes didn't open back up for at least a full minute, and then his head shot up, face in the bowl of cereal. "Crap!" He gasped, shaking his face off and muttering under his breath. He ran back to his bathroom and washed his face off, along with his hair.

This was something he did every morning, regardless of whether or not his face was drenched in sugary milk.

As he dried off his face and hair with a towel, he carefully inspected his face in the mirror. There was nothing wrong with it, but... for some reason, it felt weird looking in the mirror ever since two nights ago. It felt weird looking in the mirror and not seeing the version of his face that was the product of makeup. "No," he said aloud and shook his head, "I'm just thinking too much into it."

He tossed the towel onto the countertop and walked, back into his room. He grabbed his phone, computer, notepad, and pencil pouch and shoved all of them into his backpack. After making sure everything was in it, Bailey slung the bag onto his back and returned to the kitchen, tipping the bowl of cereal up to his face and drinking all of the milk and remaining cereal. He placed the glass bowl gently into the sink and slipped his white shoes on while he walked out the door.