California Dreaming

Chapter Six

   I awoke, groggy, wrapping my arms around my head in order to shield my eyes, and ears, from the bright light coming in through my window, the growl of my neighbor’s lawn mower. My skull felt as if someone had cracked it in two, I could feel the blood pulsing over my temples rhythmically; I wanted more than anything in that moment to curl up and fall back into a dreamless sleep. 

   “Urgh,” I groaned, hugging my knees up to my chest and squeezing my eyes shut and grimacing, slowly trying to integrate my senses back to reality. I held my hands up over my head and squinted at them, checking to see if I could still count how many digits I was holding up on each hand. I realized soon after that this could never work, maybe I was still a little drunk from the night before. 

   The doorbell rang and I rolled over, wrapping my pillow around my head, trying to muffle the shrill noise. I glanced over at my clock, at the digits glowing a neon green. It was already twelve o’clock, and I knew I should be getting up, in order to do the homework I had put off the night before. I stood and stretched my arms out over my head, sucking my stomach in against my ribs, taking a deep breath. I found some tracksuit bottoms strewn across my bedroom floor before snatching my sunglasses up from my desk, slipping them on over my aching eyes, making my way down the stairs and to the front door. 

   “I brought coffee,” Gabriel grinned, holding a cup out to me. How did he look so refreshed? 

   “I feel like dying,” I said flatly, ushering him into the front hall and shutting the door behind him, leaning against it and tipping my head back to rest against the wood. 

   “You were having considerably more fun the last time I saw you,” he laughed, and even his smooth timbre was enough to make my head scream in protest. “What’s with the sunglasses?” 

   “What do you think?” I snapped, grabbing the coffee and taking a sip, immediately feeling a little better, my body invigorated. 

   “Ready to get started on the essay?” He asked brightly, starting up the stairs to my room. 

   “Um, how about no?” I replied, following him upstairs slowly, waiting as he stood in the doorway, staring inside curiously. “What?” 

   “It’s weird, I kind of pictured it this way,” Gabes shrugged. 

   His eyes were flicking over the cluttered room, which I had painted a very pale blue, with photos pinned up. My desk was old and wooden, and my bed was pushed up by the window, so I could see the blue sky when I woke up each morning. It reminded me of just how lucky I was to be here, in this city, alive. I’d hung fairy lights around the whole room and bookshelves lined the walls. I ducked under his arm and collapsed onto my bed, grabbing my English book, from the pile by my bedside table, and started to flick through my notes. Gabriel sat on my desk chair, spinning around on it childishly. 

   “I don’t really want to do English you know?” He sighed, staring up at the ceiling as he turned round and round and round. 

   “Who would, but I guess it’s got to be done,” I frowned, taking a pen and scribbling my name down at the top of a new piece of paper. Gabriel stopped turning and grabbed his notepad, writing something down before holding it up to me. 

   “Did you have a good time last night?” His handwriting was messy and slanted, and it was hard to decipher it. 

   “What I can remember,” I spoke, starting to write an introduction, “yeah.” I nodded and looked up at him, smiling modestly. “I’m bored,” I groaned dramatically, ripping out the page in my jotter and throwing it across the floor.