"well, this is me;" I said, indicating my house.
11:11 the time had flown by. I Didn't want to let go of his hand. He didn't seem too keen on letting Go either.
"I don't really want to go home to be honest" I chuckled nervously.
"Well look, until we reach eighteen we have to listen to our parents, yours are probably sick with worry. Here's my number, and if you can't sleep, I'll be up thinking of you." he smiled nervously has he handed me a wrinkled scrap of paper, weak from the sweat on his palms; I wasn't the only one.
I took it graciously. Not making any effort to cover up how much I liked the idea of him giving me his number.
I slotted my keys in the door, no one was awake but I noticed that half of the furniture had gone. There was a note on the fridge.
'Sorry I didn't say goodbye sweetie, call me if you need - dad.'
He'd left and gone. That was fast. I whipped out my phone, and typed in the number Brooklyn had given me
"can't sleep already x -Freya'
he text back immediately, 'I'll be here until you fall asleep'
we texted long into the night and into the early hours of morning before I fell asleep.
I woke up to a text from Brooklyn 'text me when you wake up so I can tell you something x'
I know it sounded weird, I mean, I'd known this guy for less than 24 hours, something my parents had warned me of, but it felt like I'd known him for years. Things were still a bit hazy though, little awkward patches of conversations here and there. But otherwise it was great.
It was 10:30am, and I wasn't ready to face the day. I rolled over hoping to catch a bit more sleep before my phone started vibrating like crazy.
It was Brooklyn.
"Hello?" I asked, my voice croaky from sleep.
"Hey there," he sounded cool and crisp
"You alright?" I asked, obviously indicating I wanted to know why he was calling me at such an hour
"Look outside your window." I could hear the smile in his voice.
I rolled out of bed and shrugged on my favourite baggy jumper. I stumbled over to the window and yanked at my blinds to open them. I peered into the desolate street outdoors, and only one person stood in the middle of the road.
My face lit up and I waved exitedly, soon after realising how weird I must have looked.
I had the massivest bags under my eyes and my face was acne ridden. My hair was all over the place and I was wearing a 5 year old jumper. He waved back and motioned for me to come out.
I shoved on my baggy jeans and a half clean t shirt.
I also pasted my face in tinted moisturiser and painted my eyelashes in mascara. I looked like a doll, nothing from my usual self, I NEVER wore make up but I was most definitely looking far from my best.
I grabbed my keys, phone and purse. I whipped out a post-it note and scribbled a message to mum explaining I needed space but that I was okay. I closed the door behind me. Never before have I got put of bed in a record three minutes.
I ran towards him and have him a massive hug. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"Freya, Freya, Freya you're so beautiful, and yet, you decided to cover your gorgeous face in make up. Here, I like the real you." He said endearingly as he handed me a make up wipe.
"Okay. Done," I said, wiping off the last bit of mascara "so what did you call me for?" I smiled
"You and I, my friend, are going to do a bit of retail therapy." He smiled.
