Him

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It was 8 o'clock on Saturday morning and I was not happy. The reason I wasn't happy was because it was 8 fücking in the morning and I should be asleep. But thanks to my dumb asś brother, I'm wide awake and feeling very chipper. Not.

"Dylan, I got in!!" Logan screamed as he jumped on top of my bed. He was waving around a piece of paper in his hand, smiling like an idiot. I groaned and pulled the comforter over my head.

"Go away," I moaned. Logan ripped off the cover and shoved the piece of paper into my face.

"I FÜCKING GOT IN TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO!" Logan yelled at the top of his lungs. I winced and covered my ears.

"Jesus Christ, congrats," I mumbled. I picked up the paper and sure enough, at the top, it said "Congratulations, Logan O'brien, you have been accepted to the University of Chicago." I let out a low whistle.

"Nice one, dude. I told you you'd get in, you've got all the brains," I joked and patted him on the back. Logan beamed at me.

"I've gotta go tell Mom," He grabbed the letter from my hands and rushed out of my room and up the stairs. A few minutes later I heard Logan screaming and then my mom squealing with joy. I laid back down on my bed and wrapped the covers around me and attempted to fall back asleep.

After 10 minutes of failed attempts, I decided to get up and maybe take Logan out for a celebratory breakfast at IHOP. I pulled on a blue t shirt and a pair of tan pants and then headed upstairs to grab the car keys and my shoes. But when I walked into the kitchen, Logan was no where to be found.

"Logan?" I called.

"Oh, Dylan, he just went over to Rachel's house to tell her and then go out to breakfast," my mom replied. I suppressed a groan. That little douché. What ever happened to bros before höes?

"Alright. I'm going to go pick up some food. See you later," I said.

"Bye, honey, I love you!" Mom shouted and I slammed the door to stop her from saying anything else.

I turned on my car and pulled out of the drive way, intending to go to IHOP, but my body had a different idea. Somehow, I found myself in front of Scarlett's house just in time to see a police cruiser drive away from it. What's that all about? Maybe her dad's a cop, which would be both terrifying and pretty bad aśs.

I shook the thought from my head, trying not to over think it. I hopped out of my truck and made my way to Scarlett's front door. It only took a few seconds for her to open it after I knocked. Her black hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing an oversized sweater that seemed to swallow her whole.

"What do you want?" Her voice was dripping with fatigue.

"Well, good morning to you, too," I chuckled, leaning on the door frame.

"Look, Dylan, I really-"

"You don't even know why I'm here, don't cut me out just yet," I told her. Scarlett sighed and then crossed her arms.

"Okay. Why are you here?" Scarlett asked.

"I was wondering if I could take you out for breakfast?"

Scarlett's jaw tensed and she swallowed; she was going to turn me down. I guess lunch last Friday was a one time thing, that it didn't make us friends.

Scarlett glanced back into her house and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her.

"Okay. I need an excuse to get out of this god dámn house," Scarlett grumbled. I laughed and then followed her down to my truck, unlocking the doors.

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