The Bucket List

0.1

((Picture of Fleur attached!))

Chapter 1

The dreaded sound of my alarm clock going off for the fifth time this morning is the only thing that motivates me to try to get up and out of bed.

Yes, try.

Because in the midst of throwing my legs over the edge to stand up, I hit my pinky toe on the edge of my bedside table and unsuccessfully fall over on the floor, clutching my foot with my hands.

Oh, Fleur, you always know how to start out a morning great.

Yeah, yeah. Shut up brain.

When I'm finished nursing my toe back to a pain-free health, I grab the edge of the bedside table that decided to attack my poor foot and drag myself back up to get ready.

I take a fifteen minute shower, which is a record. But I guess it's because I didn't stay for the extra three minute encore which my endearing fans usually request after my Camp Rock jam session in the shower. I have to say, it's easily mistaken as my own mini concert.

I make my way back to my bedroom and finally find some clothes that I'm satisfied with. I put concealer under my eyes, for my freaking dark circles that never want to go away, and some mascara.

"Morning, mom," I say after making my way down the stairs and see her on the couch. My mom and I get along well, but we're just not that close. Same goes for my dad, except I talk with my mom more than him. However, they both idolize my older sister, Heather, in college with a full ride. They've always showed more interest in her accomplishments than mine, but that's just how it goes, and I've gotten used to it.

"Morning! You sound a little too happy for a Monday."

"Yeah, well we don't have classes today because of some assembly. The rest of the day we just stay in homeroom and have a free day," I explain, grabbing a granola bar and my keys and heading towards the door. We don't have assemblies that often, but when we do, they just give us the day off to stay in homeroom, so I guess if people need to get work done, they can get time to do that. But since I usually have my work done, I'll just talk to friends, listen to music, or read.

"Oh, okay. Well have a good day, Fleur!" she gets out as I'm halfway through the door. I manage to fit in a 'bye' before I close the door.

I hop in my trusty '67 Impala and start the engine. Call me a Supernatural freak, I don't care. The car is a beauty and that's all that matters. I pull out of the drive way, passing my neighbor getting on his motorcycle, also leaving for school. Meet Jax Ryder, the stereotypical bad boy. Only talked to him once or twice, but it was forced and totally unpleasant.

I bet his ego is 10x higher than his IQ.

And no, just because he lives next door to me does not mean we ended up having windows right next to each other or something. Nope, that's his other neighbor — and he already hooked up with her last year for one night then dumped her like yesterday's trash. Joking, but it seems like something he would do.

Sorry guys, no overly-used cliche love story here.

~•~

I always have trouble focusing completely on the road. Don't get me wrong, I'm a good driver, but there just always seems to be some sort of distraction that causes my thoughts to drift.

Today, that distraction just had to be the roaring motorcycle riding my bumper for the whole first 10 minutes of my drive. It stayed that way until we got a mile away from the school, and then they decided to pass.