I walked silently through the house in slippers from Pink and into Ryan and Kyle’s room. They were outside playing football or something.
I creaked open the door and walked in. It smelled faintly of Axe, surprisingly not the bad kind. I snuck over to Ryan’s dresser and dug to the bottom. Score.
I grabbed three of his old, tattered shirts and a sweatshirt along with two pairs of jeans, one ripped, one not. I also got hold of one pair of converse, and two old baseball caps he never wears. Like me, he has a lot of clothes, so chances are he won’t miss these. I’ll have to come back later to get some more.
I was looking for some socks when I heard laughter and the slam of the front door.
“Rematch after we get some lunch!” Ryan said.
“Yeah, okay. Hold on, I gotta get something though,” Kyle replied. Footsteps were getting closer. Crap!
I slammed the drawer shut and frantically looked around. Where to go?! He’s probably going to get something out of his closet….
I dashed under the bed. I barely squeezed under when he creaked the door open.
“Where did I put you?” Kyle mumbled to himself. “Under the bed, right!”
He knelt down. I could feel my heart beating real fast. How was I going to explain this?
“Oh, wait, no, I moved it.” He stood back up and it was all I could take to not exhale so loudly out of relief. He walked over to the closet, got out whatever he needed to get, and walked back to the kitchen.
PHEW.
I waited an extra minute to make sure he was gone, then as quietly as I could I pulled myself out along with the clothes. I silently tip-toed back into my room with the belongings, after I’d gotten some socks.
Then, I walked over to the bathroom and found some wrap for sore ankles and stuff. I closed the cabinet quietly and walked back to my room.
I shut the door and laid the stuff out on my bed. I could pull this off, right? Just then a thought popped into my head. If I was going to be Chris, where is Chloe going to be?
I had to run away, something like that. THAT seemed like the hardest part to pull off.
I threw the stuff in my bag and tromped into the kitchen. I had to start a scene.
“Oh hey, Chloe,” Kyle said with a mouthful of sandwich.
“Hi. What are you eating? I’m hungry.”
“A BLT. Want one? The bacon’s so good; it’s really fresh.”
“Um, ew,” I said, even though it sounded pretty good since I really was hungry. “Fresh bacon equals fresh stomach fat. No.”
“What’s the problem now?” Aunt Joyce said, wiping her hands on her apron coming from the bathroom.
“She doesn’t want a BLT,” Kyle said.
“Alright then. Whaddya want?” Aunt Joyce asked me.
“I have a taste for some spinach salad with mandarin oranges, toasted almonds, tossed in ginger dressing. Mmm, that sounds good right now.”
YOU ARE READING
Not So Perfect
Teen Fiction"I flew out my phone and went to the Notes app. I began typing furiously for everything I was going to need – ripped grass-stained jeans, an old, holey Abercrombie shirt, a baseball cap, a baggy sweatshirt, some old converse, and stinky socks. I was...