Who Says I Want To Be Your Girl?

Who Says I Want To Be Your Girl? Chapter 5

Chapter 5

This is why I hate drinking.

My head hurt, my eyes hurt, my whole body hurt, and I'm pretty sure I was going to puke up a lung when the time was right.

I peeked my head outside of my layers of blankets and pillows in order to test the waters, but I knew I had made a huge mistake when my eyes felt like they were burning from the inside out. I quickly dove back under the covers and settled for staying in the whole day. There is no point in putting myself through unnecessary pain.

"Del." A voice drawled. Seemingly miles away from my safe haven and I.

"Del." The voice appeared but this time with a timid shove.

"Go away." My tired voice rasped.

"But you promised!"

Annoyed, I ripped the blankets that were covering my face. I began to squint in order to alleviate the pressure that was no squeezing my head. "What, Owen?"

"Del, are you hungover?" My fifteen year-old brother asked.

"Very much so. Now what are you going on about?"

"It's Saturday."

"I am aware."

"Starting with the first Saturday of this month you have been..."

"Oh shit, your driving lesson!"

"Bingo." He said smugly. "Now get your stanky ass in the shower, it's time for me to learn woman!"

Surprisingly, it took me less than twenty minutes to get myself ready to go. It usually took my hungover self at least an hour to figure out how my arm-hole on my shirt worked.

I walked down the stairs that led to our family room when I was stopped by the sight of my eighteen-year-old sister, Jen, who wore nothing but her current boyfriend's oversized football jersey.

"What are you wearing? It looks as if you are about to rob a bank." She motioned towards my all black ensemble that consisted of a tight t-shirt, leggings, and my black grape Jordan V's. The outfit was then topped off with my new favorite PLAYED des FUCKOUT SnapBack.

I mockingly shook my head, "You big sister are," I tapped the words on my hat as she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever loser," She resigned as she resumed texting and watching Bad Girls Club, which is the one thing that we actually have in common. The show was just so ratchet that I couldn't stop watching.

I walked out the door towards Owen who had been sitting on the hood of my Kia Optima. My dad had gone all out and gotten me the white Limited Edition one complete with the glass roof. I had been the easier child to car shop for since Jen had plead for an Audi.

Owen had been fiddling with his phone until he saw me approaching. "Hey, bro. Thanks for the Advil."

"Ah, no problem," He said as he tried to avoid my mussing of his short straight black hair. "I need you as coherent as possible."

I entered on the passenger side as Owen nervously wiped the palms of his hands on his khaki cargo shorts. He swiftly opened the car door and sat in the driver side adjusting the seat to his 5'11 frame.

"First thing you do?"

"Seatbelt." Check.

"Next?"

"Adjust the mirrors." Good.

"Then?"

"Key in the ignition." He said soldierly. "But push the button, in your car."

I chuckled to myself. "Okay?"

"Keeping my foot on brake, I move from park into reverse." I nodded assuredly. "Then I go?"

"Yes."

As we had been doing for the past couple of weeks I had him take me a few times around the neighborhood. Most of the time he'd only practice for an hour, but today I had different plans.

"Take me to Starbucks."

"Why?" He asked, not yet mastering the ability to talk to the passengers in the car without keeping his eyes on the road.

"I want to treat you for being an amazing driver."

Owen raised an eyebrow.

"I need caffeine. My headache has started to come back."

He took me to our local Starbucks and gingerly parked in the parking spot further away from any other cars. I made sure to remove my hat so that I wouldn't offend any parents that may be in the coffee place, and smoothed down my recently straightened hair.

"Owen!" A voice cried at the entrance of my brother.

"Oh, hey man!" Owen replied before looking at me for approval.

"Go hang with your friends," I gave him a playful shove. "I'll be over there if you need me for money."

I made sure to stake my claim in the small alcove in the corner that consisted solely of a large armchair and a fireplace after I had ordered a Venti Zebra Mocha Frappacino. It was times like these that I was grateful that I had always carried a book. But then again, I had made it a point to come to Starbucks when I needed a relaxing place to study.

Soon my mind had drifted into the book I was reading, and I had shut off all of the light babbling of the people with the music on my iPhone.

"Hello?" A large hand had appeared in front of her face. Knowing that my brother would never do something like that, I slowly lowered my book.

"Remember me?"

"No." And it was true I hadn't. The boy seemed familiar with his chocolate brown eyes and his tanned skin but I could not bring a name to his face.

"I'm hurt!" His broad smile on his face rang that he felt otherwise. "After what we experienced last night...I could hardly forget."

Oh, it was him! Knowing that I would not be getting rid of him any time soon if I actually acknowledged that I remembered him, I decided to play dumb. A trick I had observed from watching Jen brush off her countless fanboys.

"I'm sorry, I can't recollect." I sighed offhandedly.

"Really?" He asked slightly taken aback.

"Mhm," I muttered as I began packing my things to leave. "But if you were really that amazing, I'm sure I would've remembered."

"But I am amazing," He pouted cutely like a little boy that hasn't gotten his way.

"It looks like that's debatable." I called over my shoulder as I met up with Owen and we headed out the door.

"Do you know that guy?"

"Unfortunately." I sighed as we drove away towards home.