Before My Heart Stops

Chapter 6

      I woke to the aroma of freshly baked croissants that scent drifted into my room upstairs. That smell wakes me up every time.

       So due to the amazing smell, I got my butt out of bed and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. There, I found my mom take an iron tray of hot croissants out of the oven with her fall decorated oven mitts. Then she placed all the croissants onto a white plate on the granite countertop.

"Morning, Mom," I said as I strode over to the plate and stuffed my face with a fluffy, golden croissant. Hence, unable to speak for a while.

Yum. This deliciousness is my weakness. That and apples but they have to be the fresh kind we get from an apple orchard in our town, Starlight Hill Orchard. Those are knock-your-socks-off delicious. I'm an apple freak, basically.

     While thinking that, my mom replied, "Good morning, Phoebe," with a smile and an eyebrow raised, noticing my mouth full already. 

         "I have to head to work now, so please take out the trash when your done." Then she took her oven mitts off and got her car keys off the counter and headed to the front door. "Oh, I will be home at 9:00 tonight and your father and sister will be out so it's just you home for awhile. Sorry hon. So see you later. Love you," she yelled before she closed the door behind her.

        Home alone after school, huh. I guess it's my lay-on-the-couch-and-read-in-the-dark-where-it's-all-scary night. Sometimes, I get freaked out when I'm home alone reading at night but I still do it. Strange I know.

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      After finishing like five large croissants and feeling like I need need to work out for five hours, I grab the trash bag and, still in my pjs, I ambled out the front door and went to the trash bin outside. Then I dropped the trash into the small bin and let out a big yawn. I had to get ready for school or I will be late, which I would hate. So I started to head to the front door, but then, behind me not too far away, I heard an familiar voice talking to my elderly neighbor across the street.

      Oh no. No no no. It can't be him.

      I hesitantly turn around to see, from across the street, none other than Mason Wyatt from behind arguing to Mr. Harper, who looked disappointed.

       You got to be kidding me. Why is Mason here? He doesn't live in this neighborhood. Come to think of it, where does he live?

        I must of been straight up staring because the next thing I heard was, "What are you think you're doing?" I knock out of it and see Mason staring daggers at me.

      "Oh. I. Uh... Sorry. Um... Yeah," I responded, not knowing what to say. Then I turned back around and walked quickly back into my house.

Darn it. That was so smooth. Not. Whatever it not like I want him to like me.

After that I ran up the stairs, got dressed and drove to school through the pouring rain.
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Thanks for reading this you awfully nice people since you're reading this book. :-)