Jackets & Periods
♡ Fiona ♡
"Lizzy wake uppp" I groan, tapping my feet annoyingly while holding Lizzy's door open.
Lizzy, who's snuggled underneath her covers in a worm-like shape lets our a grumble, "hmmmmm" she kicks, "leave me alone!" She grumbles.
"Dude, it's time to wake up" I remind her again.
"Go the fuck awayyyy" she yells.
My brows furrow, taken aback I say, "Don't- don't talk to me like that..."
She shifts, grumbling something incoherent.
"Fine. I'll leave if I see you sit up" I sigh- now I've given up complete hope.
She's silent for a second and soon, I begin to think maybe I need reinforcements but then she swings her blanketed leg over the edge of the bed and in one swell roll manages to fall off her bed. She doesn't cry in pain- she doesn't even flinch, she just sits there on the floor.
"Fine" I roll my eyes, "I'll take that" with that I close Lizzy's door- picking Simba up and carrying him to the living room while wondering why Lizzy's acting that way.
I mean, she's never been a morning person- but I've told her to wake up at least six times- it's almost time for Yas to pick us up and I'm ready while Lizzy is still a morning mess.
I pack Lizzy a small lunch that consists of a cut in half pb&j, cheetos, and an orange Hi-C.
Just when I'm about to zip the lunchbox up, Lizzy comes stomping into the kitchen- like actually stomping, with her yellow daisy covered blanket wrapped around her with a frown on her face.
"Oh my gosh!" I groan at the sight, "Elizebeth" I begin- so she knows I'm serious because nobody uses her real name, we all just say "Liz", "Lizzy", or "Beth".
"Yas is gonna be here at any moment get dressed!" I order her.
"My stomach hurts" she complains, "and what are you packing?"
"Your lunch- " I begin, moving towards her and placing my hand on her forehead- it's not hot. "It's a pb&j, cheetos, and a juicebox".
Her frown becomes more apparent.
"What?" I question, taking my hand away.
"I don't wanna a sandwich I want something spicy- and pickles- a lot of pickles".
I give her a strange look, "you barely eat pickles".
"I woke up wanting them".
My brows furrow, "do you feel okay?" I question.
"My stomach hurts!" She groans, "I told you this already".
"Does anything else hurt?"
"No"
Weird. Is she faking being sick.
"You can just stay out-"
YOU ARE READING
Because Of Her Jacket
RomanceSeventeen-year-old Fiona Taylor has never been in a relationship. Fiona spends most of her time taking care of her little sister and cat, watching rom-coms, and hanging out with her friends Ethan, Dylan, and Yasmine (one of which is her cousin). Fio...
