To Real to be Fake

Zachary

I like Alex. There I said it.

She is gorgeous. Her long blonde hair, her crystal blue eyes, and her pale skin. She is prettier every time I see her.

But she would never like me. I am not her type. She probably likes Bad boys or super athletic people. But I am neither of those things.

Dinner was in five minutes. Pasta apparently. No sauce of course because I, Zachary Adams is allergic to tomatoes. Tomatoes of all things. So plain noodles with meat on top.

Yay.

"Zachary! Zoey!" Mom called. "Dinner is ready!" Five minutes already? It seemed like ten seconds ago I was walking back into my room from Zoeys.

I opened my door and waltzed over to the dinner table. Zoey was already sitting down and so was Maya. Our little sister. She is seven years old, and a better drawer then I will ever be.

The plates were already on the table, served with sauce less pasta on top. To drink I have the very special Pepsi.

(Ps is Alex's favorite soda ever)

~ The Next Morning ~

Beep beep.

Beep beep.

"Ugh" I moan as I reach over to turn of my alarm. Every morning at 6:30 am, I wake up and get ready to tackle the day.

I pull the cover off my bed and throw it to the floor. I slowly stand up and slave over to my closet.

Let's see.... hmmm.... Lets wear skinny jeans and a graphic tee. Like everyday.

I grab a pair of my skinny jeans today the blue ones and slip them on. Then I grab a red t-shirt that has the Pi symbol on it.

Classy.

I walk over to the wall of my room and knock.

"Zoe-Mister you up yet?" I call. I hear Zoeys feet shuffling across the carpeted floors.

"Yah, I'm up, Zach Attack." she moans.

Zach Attack?

That's the name I call myself when talk in to Alex. Zoey read our texts... oh gosh. Was it easy to tell that I liked her? Did she know?

"Be at the bus stop in twenty okay?" I call back through the wall. I walk back over to my bed and fall face first into the soft mattress.

Ughhhhh. I hate mornings.