505 days ~ irwin

407 days before

Ashton

It must have been 5:00am. My body woke itself up early this morning, but I didn't have much to complain about. Although I do not attend school anymore, I do still have and appreciate the habit of waking up early everyday. Most people are not morning birds, teenagers however. I am both a morning bird and night owl. Some people might consider that as an insomniac, I suppose. And maybe in many aspects and spectrums on a certain scale, then I guess I am. A peer diagnosis strictly based on my word. But I don't identify with those factors, because I actually love sleep. Which is why whenever Brinley is at school and I have to wait for school to end so I can come pick her up, I like to nap for an extensive amount of time. I have nothing better do ever since Luke purposely laid me off from the coffee shop that we always used to go to. We don't go much anymore because we all mutually hate Luke. Some more than others. Example: me. 

It been nine days since the epic prank that Brinley composed, but also almost corrupted. All the lads keep bothering me about what happened when she ran off out of the blue without a call or warning. I tell them I have no idea, and they refuse to believe I am telling nothing but the truth. I am very curious to know, but I haven't cared enough to ask, and she hasn't cared enough to tell me. The feeling goes around. I don't know how she hasn't got caught yet because no one else in the school would be this courageous to even do anything remotely like this. It's almost like a routine at her school. It could be a food fight, someone got a bleeding nose from a football kicked too hard to the face, or even a missing pen from the board room; they will always call Brinley to the office before anyone else. The school isn't perfect, far from it, but for some reason everyone behaves mediocrely, except Brinley. And I ask her why she asks like this and she would always respond with: "because I get so bored easily." That's what happens when you have to take care of a five year old. Seriously, her actions completely reflect a five year old. 

My phone went off, distracting me from my intense stare off with the smooth white ceiling with absolutely no attributes or contrast. Just one shade of white. I hesitated to look over at my phone, because I couldn't snap myself out of the stare to break it off. I grabbed my phone, hovering it over my face, praying to god that I don't drop it since it is so early in the morning. It was yours truly.

"Hey sleepy, poopy head-" 

She was so very literate..

"Are you awake yet?"

I smiled, little bit of a side smile because I didn't like that side of me to take over. I'm Ashton Irwin. That one asshole that seems like he has no lovey dovey feelings. I'm supposed to be dressed head-to-toe in all black, and that is the person that I portray in my head, and I'm sure in everyones heads. I typed, ad-libbing like no tomorrow. I was half in the conversation and half in the conversation in my own head that I didn't even see what I was typing. 

"You bet." 

Plain and simple, good one Irwin. 

"Oh hi"

"Morning loser" 

Teasing and playing around is a form of flirting, right? Or is that just a primary school thing?

"I'm bored. Roof?"

If I could explain Brinley Reynolds in a single text, that would be it. She is always, constantly, absolutely, bored all the damn time. And if she ever went missing, you would find her on the roof smoking, or just talking with me. Sometimes she would just be up there by herself and looking at the stars, despite her crippling fear of space. 

I didn't even bother to respond. I pulled back my duvet, fleece blanket that was draped atop of me, it was a thing I did ever since I started to live on my own, since my mum doesn't and can't anymore. I looked down, realising that pants would be a good idea. I scooped up the random pair of light grey sweatpants. Brinley would totally make fun of me for wearing a dark grey t-shirt and light grey trackies. She is very fashion anal about that kind of stuff. She says that she would never be caught dead in all black because there isn't any "dimension." Which is strictly why you've never seen her in all black on purpose, or at all to be honest. One time we got in a fight because my "heather grey" hoodie was two shades lighter than my "feathered grey" trackies, because "if you're going to wear the same colours, at least make them the same shade."