Chapter 8
"Tony, wake up!" someone sings. I groan, burying my face in my tower of pillows in hopes to block out the noise of their off key singing.
"Dude, get up. It's Saturday and I'm bored."
I turn my head towards the noise, opening one eye to see that it's Roy and Foster. No wonder whoever sang was so bad. Neither Foster nor Roy can sing. Not saying that I can do any better than them.
I groan, closing my eyes again. Suddenly, I feel hands against my side pulling me onto the floor, whilst I clutch onto my pillow for dear life. "Go away!"
"Tony," Foster says in a whiny voice. "It's already past ten. Get your fat butt up!"
I roll over so I'm facing the floor and stick my butt up in the air. Roy starts laughing and Foster says, "That's not what I meant."
"My butt isn't fat, by the way," I mumble into the carpet. I roll onto my back, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Foster groans. Roy is still laughing.
"Guys, it's Saturday. Leave me in peace on Saturdays, okay?" I close my eyes, not ready to wake up.
"Last night you didn't hang out with me, the least you can do is hang out with me today," Foster whines. I sigh, forcing myself to sit up.
"I told you why, Foster. You can't keep being so clingy."
"I'm not clingy, I just get bored easily," he defends, crossing his arms and pouting.
"What about Patricia, can't she spend time with you?" Roy asks, cutting him off.
"No, she's been working on college essays. That's why I've been stuck with you guys so much lately."
"Or she just wants to get some time away from you," I mutter, standing up and throwing my blanket and pillow back onto my bed.
"What was that?" Foster asks.
"You heard me," I say louder, making my way to my closet for clean clothes.
"I was giving you a chance to take back what you said, idiot," Foster grunts.
"And I refuse to take it back," I state, grabbing a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. I turn to face them, pulling off my shirt. "So what did you guys wake me up for anyway?"
Roy shrugs. "Foster wanted to do something."
"Do what?"
"Don't know yet," Foster admits, lazily dropping himself onto my unmade bed.
I groan, tugging the clean shirt over my head. "So you could have decided before waking me up. I would've gotten more sleep!"
"Well, you know how Foster is. Can't make decisions for crap, and I'm not sure where to go. We want you to decide," Roy explains, resting his shoulder against the wall.
"I don't want to decide," I grumble.
"Tony, get over yourself and decide," Foster commands.
I say the first thing that comes to mind, "Let's go bowling, then."
"Bowling it is."
*
"OHHHHHH I WIN AGAIN!"
"No man, it's a tie," I say, pointing to the scoreboard.
"So? I still beat you," Foster says with a smirk.
"Yeah, but you're tied with Roy, so you didn't technically win."
"Whatever," he shrugs, uncaring.
Roy stares at the screen. "Are you kidding me? I tied with Foster?" he shakes his head. "Man, I need to get better at this."
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To Save Her
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