Bench Players (ON HIATUS)

Six

| | Chapter dedicated to bambakedbeans | |

~A/N~

The update is real, my fellow hoomuns! :))

PBJ_sandwich

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~~~ !!! UNEDITED !!! ~~~         

**content may also be modified in the future**

/// S I X ///

*Sunday*

*Zella's POV*

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Bee-

I reached over and grabbed my phone, hitting the snooze button with a lazy finger and falling back onto the comfort of my pillow.

I had this thing where I wanted to wake up early everyday even though I felt like shit the next morning when my alarm went off. See, if I woke up early, I had more time to get more things done instead of sleeping in and waking up at like eleven - way too late for my liking.

I was planning to go over to Marcie's this morning like I did most weekends when I was free.

I slept for another ten minutes till my alarm went off again, signalling that my snooze time was over. The day I wake up to the sound of my first alarm would be a day that would never come.

Groaning, I shuffled toward the bathroom, had a wee, took a small shower, and got ready for the rest of the day. Something in my head was telling me not to dress homey, despite the fact that I was simply paying a daily visit to Marcie's. It was telling me to dress casual.

The little voice at the back of my head was usually right in the end when considering the previous occasions when it had advised me to do all kinds of things, but I had never really payed attention to it... even though it had been accurate or its suggestion had been somewhat of a beneficial one ninety per cent of the time.

Marcie would probably question why I had appeared at her house for like the zillionth time suddenly dressed up in casual clothing as if we were going out or something.

C'mon. Just try something slightly different. This might turn out to be a benefitting thing.

I gazed fixedly at the various T-shirts and trousers that made up the top shelf's contents of my closet. I then turned my attention to the floor of my closet, where all my casual wear was sitting in a lump; there were a few hoodies, shorts, jeans, denim stuff, shirts and a pair of black tights that I never even dreamed of showing off to the outside world. On the middle shelf, my shoes were piled up in an unruly heap. Sadly, I only had one pair of legit, black and white converse with a whole lot of other casual footwear that wore a converse-like mien.

After contemplating for a good fifteen minutes, I pulled on a pair of knee-length white shorts, a neon orange T-shirt and a black basketball hoodie along with my legit converse. I made a mental note to zip Marcie up if she even dared to ask about what I was wearing or why before I ambled off toward her place.