Watercolour

Sixteen: Part One

I've decided to split this chapter into two because it's quite a long one.

Alana's P.O.V

I woke up disorientated - not really knowing what to do with myself. I used my feet to push back the covers and sat up, staring at the wall opposite.

It was Saturday which meant that my dad was the only one home apart from myself.

I headed downstairs in the joggers and vest top that I'd slept in and walked passed my dad who was sat on the sofa watching the news before heading straight into the kitchen to make some food. As I was taking my toast out off the toaster, my dad walked in with his empty cereal bowl and mug.

"Morning, didn't realise you were up."
"I walked straight passed you," I pointed out.
"Hmm, oh well. What are you doing today?"
"Well, Charley's coming over in a bit and then we're going shopping in town."
"Ahh, okay. And Alex is coming round for lunch tomorrow after youth group, right?"

Shit. I'd forgotten about that.

"Um, not anymore. He can't make it."
"Ah, that's a shame... why not?"
"He's not feeling too well" I lied. Well, it was probably true.
"Send him my wishes, good job you told me though... I'm doing the shopping later on."
"Okay, well I'd better go and get ready," I said, finishing off my toast before grabbing my phone off the table and heading back upstairs to get dressed.

I opened the curtains and the window before putting some music on. Today was meant to be 'cold and clear' and by looking down to the thin layer of frost coating the parked cars I could yell that the forecast was probably right.

Black jeans, black vest and red flannel was what I went with in the end. I decided to let my hair out and brushed it through before slipping my feet into my black vans and going downstairs to wait for Charley and her mum, who was giving us a lift there, to arrive.

I was just starting a conversation about the Christmas holidays with my dad when the doorbell rang. Charley's mum was standing on the doorstep.

"Hi Alana."
"Hi," I said letting her in. "Where's Charley?"
"She's just getting a few bits out of the car," she answered, wandering over to my dad who she was probably going to start a long conversation with.

I turned back outside and could see Charley walking up the drive carrying a large cardboard box.

"Hey," I said talking the box off her so she could take off her coat. "What's in here?"
"My parents' old records... Imogen came round yesterday to collect her things for her new house and we found these," she explained, nodding towards the box. "I was wondering whether I could listen to them on your record player... You do still have it, right?"
"Yeah, of course. It's upstairs in my room," I said, leading the way.
"Mum, we'll be ready to leave in about 40 minutes or so," Charley called as we walked up the stairs.
"Okay darling."

*

"I really like some of these," Charley smiled, as she turned one of the recipes onto is other side. "Who knew my parents had such a good taste in music?"

She sat back down on my bed and sifted through some of the others that we hadn't listened to yet.

I was sat at my desk playing mindlessly with a hairband that I'd found behind one of my photo frames.

"Al, have you heard any of these before?"
"A couple," I answered bluntly.
"Okay seriously, Al... what's up? I've asked you twice already," she asked.

"Look, I know that you know about what happened last night and that you're just being polite."
'What? What happened?" she asked casually whilst still concentrated on the sleeve she was holding.
"Oh, come on. I know Lucas must have told you."
"Lucas hasn't told me anything," she said. "We haven't really spoken today actually."
"Wait, so you don't know?"
"Know what?"