Who Is This?

Chapter 2

Cassidy knew in her heart of hearts that it was her alarm. What else could it be, after all? Her brain, however, refused to hear it as anything but the screams of Satan. Which admittedly wasn't what she was going for when she chose 'By The Seaside' as her alarm sound. Rolling over with a groan, she blindly swept her hand around on her bedside table until her fingers brushed the glossy screen of her phone. She scooped it up and held it to her mouth, which was just visible, the right side of her face being squashed into her pillow. Her really, really comfy pillow.

"Turn off alarm," she mumbled. Nothing. Satan's screams continued to pound through her aching, sleep-deprived head. She turned her face into her pillow and muttered a few, choice words, before turning over and saying more clearly, "Turn off alarm."

The vicious sound ceased, and Cass sent up a quick thank you prayer to Jesus, followed by an afterthought apology for all the cursing she just did. Better safe than sorry. She closed her eyes again and took a few deep breaths, trying to allow the oxygen time to penetrate her foggy brain. Screw mornings. Who decided mornings started so early? Cassidy would be a morning person, if only mornings started at, like, lunchtime. Ah, lunch. Dammit, now she was hungry.

Just then she heard her bedroom door fly open. Oh no. She knew what was coming next. Same damn thing that happened every morning. She needed a new flatmate. Or a lock.

"No," She groaned, with the air of one who has long since become resigned to the inevitable torture.

"Morning!" Came the chirpy greeting, then her covers were cruelly ripped away by the unstoppable force that was Daisy Jameson, exposing Cassidy's inadequately clothed body to the freezing air.

"Up, up, up!" Her flatmate said in a voice that was far, far too cheerful for seven AM. Not for the first time Cass seriously considered switching her friend's daily coffee fix out for decaf. And, not for the first time, she rejected that idea completely. She and Daisy had been on one, nightmarish camping trip once with Daisy's now-ex, hippie-Tyler. Lets just say that when people said Americans loved their coffee, they spoke the truth. Without coffee, Daisy was like a tiny, ferocious, brutal demon from hell. Times a million. That was not even an exaggeration. After they made their return to civilisation, hippie-Tyler was never seen again in the U.K.

"Come on, you have a lesson at 8:40," Daisy urged, tugging on Cassidy's arm.

"Who's stupid idea was it to schedule a lesson that early?" Cassidy groaned, pressing her face further into her pillow. "I can't leave right now, Dais. I've spent the night cultivating a budding relationship with my pillow, and I don't want to endanger our growing love!"

"Oh, sweetie, you know that's never going to work out," Daisy cooed. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure your pillow's cheating on you with the cat."

There was a long pause, then Cassidy said, "then I definitely need to stay here so we can discuss these very serious cheating allegations. Not to mention the fact that we don't have a cat. Yes, a serious discussion is definitely called for."

Daisy groaned, and Cassidy heard her moving around the bed.

"I'm sorry, Cass, but you drove me to it."

"Wha-"

Cassidy felt a cold hand clutch her ankles, then she went flying off the end of the bed with a squeal.

"You're so nasty!" She wailed, trying to curl up into a ball, but Daisy grabbed her and hauled her to her feet.

"Shower! Go!" She commanded, shoving Cassidy in the direction of the bathroom. Cass flipped her friend the bird and shuffled off to the bathroom, yawning. She fumbled her way through her usual morning routine, which was, admittedly, cut a little short due to one repetitive late night caller and an irritatingly concerned flat mate. Who may or may not have been very close to finding her way out of the open window this morning. Just kidding. Cassidy loved her wacky friend.