In Your Dreams

37 || Phoebe Summers

Great. Amazing. Fucking wonderful.

Emmett didn't reply back to me. The urge to throw my phone across the room is way too tempting, but I have to keep remembering that I don't have anything to replace it once it broke. So, instead of throwing it off against the wall—imagining the wall is Emmett's face—I instead clutch my phone tightly. I even brought it close to my nostrils and try to steady my breathing from the overwhelming frustration I'm feeling.

I will not be going to have a low grade on a minor course. Despite it just being a minor course that is supposed to be a chill walk in the park, Emmett fucking Larkin made it look like a dangerous trek in the rainforest. I'm not grade conscious, especially towards a minor subject, but I at least want to give my full effort on it. But being grouped with Emmett Larkin made it hard for me to just give every ounce of effort I have.

Lilian had already gone out to her next class, leaving me contemplate and control my frustration in the comfort of my own home, all alone. I'm still sitting on the couch with the back of my head resting over the headrest of the couch, giving me enough angle to stare right to the ceiling.

If I had a dollar every time I stare into the ceiling above me, I would have been rich at this point. Plus if I receive a thousand dollars every time Emmett Larkin is the reason for me staring to the ceiling above, I would be a fucking millionaire. With a loud sigh, I pull myself slightly off the couch to reach the phone I just threw on the coffee table. That would suffice for now, next time I won't be able to contain myself and just throw the whole thing across the room.

I open the unread messages I've sent to Emmett, a loud groan came out of me once I've realized he still hadn't replied to me yet. From the start I've convinced myself that maybe the guy is doing something important, so I have him the benefit of the doubt. After right now, after thirty minutes later from his last reply, I really think he's ignoring me on purpose.

I type in another message, hoping this time he'll finally reply back and begin talking about our plans for the group presentation. From the messages I've sent, perhaps a chill and kind approach will provoke him to finally respond.

Me: Emmett, please. The presentation is in two weeks.

Before I could send the message, an idea pop in my head.

Me: If you're with Alecks or even Hanz, tell them to message me at least if you really want to ignore me for this.

I finally hit send and just wait patiently. When I said wait patiently, I meant that I've only counted up to ten seconds before standing up from the couch and head to my bedroom. We won't make things done if I keep on waiting for them to move, might as well prepare some things once we're finally talking about the group presentation.

I went ahead and grabbed my laptop from the desk inside my bedroom and bring it to the living room. When I attempt to turn on the laptop, I bit the inside of my cheeks once I've realized it's out of battery. I stood up from the couch again and went to try to find the charger that is supposed to be somewhere around my desk. But when I couldn't find it anywhere near my desk, I walked around the bedroom and scour every corner to try to find this charger. After searching everywhere, I walk to my wardrobe, the only place I hadn't checked. I swung it open and glance down to see if I left it somewhere around here. A few seconds later, I find the charger resting with my pairs of handkerchief.

I grabbed the charger and stopped on my tracks. The handkerchief where the charger is resting had the same design pattern Emmett had earlier today. I don't remember having that kind of handkerchief with the different shade of brown lines against a more deeper brown cloth. But it's weird to see that I have the same handkerchief as Emmett had.