Jasmin has moved from Miami to Chicago, which is an amazing, but dangerous place.
She's innocent, but definitely knows her worth.
Jasmin has been through many ups and downs when she moved. She learned the difference between real friends and fake fri...
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Jasmin
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The light from my curtains pour into my room uninvited, blinding my eyes completely. I let out a loud groan, turning on side and placing my pillow on my head.
I hate the sun with a passion.
My room door opens, and footsteps pour in, the door shutting behind them. "Wakey wakey Jasmiiin." Emily says, jumping onto my bed and throwing her leg over my waist.
"Ten more minutes." I mutter, my voice completely muffled by the blanket.
"Ten more minutes maids? That a lot. But I can't really blame you, that shit is good." She says, and I roll my eyes. I'm not even close to thinking about drinking or food, not when I haven't brushed yet.
"No, ten more minutes." I almost cry out, the warmth of my pillow hitting me at every corner of my head.
"Ok. But if I have to come and wake you up, I'm not getting you Chick-Fil-A." She says, her voice completely unwavering. I lift my pillow up a bit, seeing her face completely stone-like. She's not bluffing.
I send her a thumbs up, and she chuckles, walking out of my room. It's 7:39, so I'll get up by 7:49. Will I though? No. I'll just have to keep my ears sensitive to anyone's footsteps.
My eyes close, and my sleep comes faster now that I hardly have any time. I stay asleep for about five more minutes, until I hear footsteps, and my door opening. Why is she waking me up early? I lift my head up, looking at the time. 7:58.
I jump up, my hair sprawled all over my face and my lips probably swollen. My heart is racing, not wanting to eat Eggos this morning. Trust me, I definitely love them, but I'd prefer Chick-Fil-A. "Oh, hey Amelia." I let out a breath, lying back on my bed.
"Good m-" "Is she up?" My eyes widen hear Emily's voice approach closer when she cuts Amelia off. I bolt up, walking over to my vanity and act like I'm bringing out my straightener.
"Oh good." She says, seeing leaning on the table. I'm sure I look weird. "What are you doing?" She asks, looking at me in amusement.
"I'm about to re-straighten my hair." I smile, lifting it up. Amelia opens her mouth, looking at the tool in my hand with her eyebrows pulled together.
"Oh yeah? So why are you holding a curling iron in your hand?" She asks, smirking in its direction. I turn my head slowly, looking at the curling iron in my hand, before smiling at her sheepishly.
"Well, if someone let me sleep a little longer, maybe my eyes would be able to tell the difference." I say, tucking the iron back into my drawer, completely forgetting my excuse of the straighter.
