Prude

Chapter 3: In Your Dreams

Tuesdays. How I loathe Tuesdays. That was my first thought when my alarm woke me up that morning. I staggered out of the warm goodness that was my bed and into my cold bathroom, still drowsy from my sleep. I took a long warm shower before walking towards the large closet in my room to pick out an outfit. I picked out a green jumper and a white t-shirt. Jeans that weren't ripped and my favourite white converse. I took in my appearance from the mirror on my closet door. My skin was the colour of milky mocha and my hair was long and wavy, dark brown locks that fell past my shoulders. My eyes were light brown, warm, I would say, and inviting, unless you go by the name Hunter Williams. I brushed my hair and looked in the mirror again.

Pretty, I would say, but not hot. I stuffed my books in my bag, and was just about to leave when I noticed the checklist on my floor, I picked it and stuffed it in my bag as well as I rushed down the stairs, grabbed a breakfast bar off the counter and rushed outside to see Jazz park her BMW in front of my house.

She grinned. "You're actually on time for once."

"Whatever."

"So," she grinned, and I knew what she wanted to talk about. "How did the checklist go?"

"I'm only up to question 3," I replied.

"That's cool," she said, "you probably need to be in school to think properly about the next questions." She grinned.

"Why..." I said slowly, "what are the next questions about?" I was suspicious.

"Nothing big, just gets you thinking." She kept her eyes on the road. I pulled out to checklist from my bag. I scanned over to question four. Q4: if you were falling, he would: A) laugh B) catch you C) make fun of you "Jazz!" I cried. She laughed. "What?" she asked innocently. I glared at her.

How do I describe my best friend? Quirky, I suppose is the best way. Jazz, short for Jasmine, is Caucasian with long red hair, and big green eyes. She laughs loud and has her own style, which others hate but I loved the fact that she could hold her own.

I nudged her. "Ow!" She shouted.

"Good," I said. "But anyway, we both know the answer is A - he would laugh." "Are you sure?" Jazz asked.

"We'll what else would he do? I suppose he might do C. But this is Hunter we're talking about."

"Maybe," she mused, "he would catch you."

I laughed out loud. "In your dreams, darling, in your dreams." There was silence as we pulled up into the school parking lot. I exited the car, waiting for Jazz so we could walk to our form class together. "Come on, the bell is going to ring any time now."

"I'm coming," she muttered as the loud shrill of the bell flowed into our ears. We jogged to our form class, getting in as Ms Charles called the first name on the register, and slipped into our seats near the back of the classroom.

"What do you have first?" Jazz asked me after the register had been taken.

"PE." And I sighed. That class was the worst. And you could guess why. "You?" I asked Jazz.

"Maths," she replied. "I've got to hand in the maths homework. Are you sure the answers are right?"

"Yes," I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Oh yeah," she replied. "I'm talking to the maths genius over here."

I rolled my eyes again. I had to give in the same homework to Mr Chambers in period 3. The bell rang for the end of registration and we all stood to go to our first period classes.

Jazz pulled me to the side. "Don't tick A for question four yet," she told me. "He just might catch you." She turned to walk to her maths class. I said nothing. "See you at break," she yelled over her shoulder.

Tell me how it was, what did you think? Thanks :)

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