Sunshine State Of Mind ☼ JJ Maybank

Chapter Four: Guys...There's a Boat Down There

"Would you stay if [they] offered you heaven?"

-Rhiannon, Fleetwood Mac

Birds were chirping, it was morning. When I was younger I always rose with the sun, even though that's not where my nickname came from. I was awake at dawn, and that's just the way things were. Now, I can barely get up. After what happened a year ago, I could never sleep soundly through the night anymore. My days of morning brunch with the sun were diminished and I was back to being a regular teenager. My real takeaway this morning was; did birds always chirp after a storm? In all truth, I just wanted them to stop so I could just go back to sleep. But I opened my eyes, undecidedly my worst decision of the morning since the window was streaming sunlight right into the direction of my corneas (my nickname will be the bane of my existence). However, this proved two things. One, that the window to the guest room had been left open and there was now a twig halfway moved into the Chateau and halfway still attached to its branch that was leaning against the house. And two, that this had probably caused some water damage since there was now a puddle of water on the hardwood floor. And I guess the third thing, there's always a third thing even if you don't account for it, was that I was being serenaded by birds this fine morning. Initially, I had turned over and tried to do the ole trick of using the pillow to drown out whatever evils try to wake you up. But since that hadn't worked in all the five tries I did it, I decided to get up.

Even as soaking wet as I had been the night before, I had slept in the same shorts. They were still dirty and they probably needed a good wash but they would do for the day. The unexpected part of my slumber had been that JJ had ended up lending me his shirt to sleep in as soon as he saw how dirty the back of mine had gotten when I fell off Lou's bike...either the first or second time. He said he preferred to sleep without it anyway, and as tired as I was I didn't feel like asking questions. This begs the question, did I like sleeping in it? Ask someone more conscious.

Groaning, I turned on my side again, hoping I still had the ability to fall back asleep even though I had decided to get up. I'd had nightmares about Cameron, again, as I did every night a storm graced me with its presence. Once I woke up I was fine, but the tossing and turning and the inability to wake up from said dreams always haunted me. Like I could run from him physically but there he was trapping me inside my own head. That and the fact that I had shared details about him to John B. Something I would have normally never done. Not in New York. Not ever. What was wrong with me?

But the words came out of my mouth anyway. Something in me just wanted to trust the Pogues. And whether this was a bad thing or a good thing didn't reach my radar just yet.

I groan again, finally feeling the sore sensation that biking had put on my legs. Lou's bike was probably long gone now. I just hoped that she would assume it got lost in the move, and not by her sister's hands where she would want reparations.

Pounding on the door suddenly alerted me to sit up. "You awake?" John B asked noisily from the other side of the door. He was incredibly nosy in his own way, as I had heard him get up a few minutes earlier while I was still in my 'will I, won't I' phase of waking up.

Ah, to face the day ahead was a challenge I wasn't prepared for. Instead I responded, "Yup, just..." I looked around the room. It was already messy, I couldn't possibly be cleaning. And I couldn't be changing, we had put my shirt away to dry somewhere out in the living room. But I could make the bed. "Making the bed." I decided at last, shrugging to myself.

I heard John B utter a confused, "What?" beside the door, and then regaining himself with, "Storm took out phone service by the way."

Crap. There goes my backup text to Lou to let her know what I would be doing for the day and that I am at least 90% not a crazy person. I pick up my phone even though it's now dead and put it in my shorts pocket for safe keeping.