Hey, I Love You

Chapter 2: Damn It!

“Sophie get your fat butt up now!” You yell at your room mate, you hear several swear words being muttered under a duvet bundle. Turning from her bed you rip open the curtains showing the rather gray scene on Greenwich. You live just outside of London in a well know little town and its perfect for both you and Soph. “Five more minutes Em, come on?” Don’t look at her, you thought turning your back to the bed. “Please Em?” You spun round armed with an argument but saw her pouting in her bed giving you her best puppy dog eyes. Those eyes which numerous boys had fallen for only to be replaced within days. Well you weren’t falling for it today. “No Soph get up we’re going to be late” As you left the room you heard several death threats being thrown your way.

You pulled into the car park of your uni, turned off the radio and got out of your mini cooper, still laughing to yourself due to look completely un-amused look on Sophie’s face. “You chose to take us clubbing on a Sunday” you said again and smiling at the stare you got in return.

The day its self was good, you loved your music course and the day was just an easy one. You found yourself home by 5 with all your work done and just a long list of chores left from where you had neglected them at the weekend. Sophie would be no use she was round at Kevin or Andrew or whatever-his-name-was house. You started with the hovering and then went on to the washing. Scooping up the bundle of clothes from yours and Sophie’s room you threw them in the wash and kicked the door of the washing machine shut behind you and before long you were greeted by the steady vibrating of the machine. Now time for the cooking. Great.

You sat curled up on you sofa staring blankly at the TV. The furniture in your 3 bedroom flat was very simple but modern. The white walls had different abstract paintings on them (Sophie’s choice) and the occasional framed music posters (mine). In the living room there was the grey leather sofas positioned next to each other, at right angles. Beneath them was a beige sheep skin run and a coffee table in front of them. There was a TV on the wall but also a book shelf, which had several rows of Elle and Vogue magazines on it, on which an incense stick burning away and a few other bits of contemporary ornaments. There was an egg chair next to the book shelf and then a few steps down into the dining room. In here there was a large oak dining table with a vase of flowers on the middle. Next to this was a stereo and a fireplace. Most of the furniture had been bought by your dad who was making up for your mums behaviour over the last few years (cheating on your dad, marrying a total idiot and ignoring the rest of her family).  Shivering you walked into the kitchen where the wash had just finished and pulled out your favourite hoodie and shoved your hands in the pockets. What was that? You pulled a damp lump of paper from your pocket and carefully unfolded it. The only words you could make out were ‘your eyes’. The note! Just your luck to have put it through the wash. Damn it!