Poor Little Rich Girl | ✓

Chapter 27: Maybe You Need To Practice Self-Control, Mister

(Excuse any mistakes, I'm so tired right now and I'll read this over later)

Chapter 27: Maybe You Need To Practice Self-Control, Mister

“Wesley,” I cry into the phone early Monday morning. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but what do you want?”

“I want you to wake up. This is a wake-up call. We have school today,” He reminds me in a chipper voice

“But I’m sleepy,” I whine, pulling my cover up over my head as the sun files into my room. “Let’s just skip today, yes?” I ask hopefully.

“How about no? Come on, Stef, there’s only two more weeks and then it’s summer vacation,” Wesley explains.

“Yes, well, two school weeks is ten days and that’s nine and a half days too many,” I mumble truthfully.

“Am I gonna have to come over there to your house? Because I will,” Wesley assures me in a teasing voice.

“Do you actually want to go to school?” I wonder incredulously, squeezing my eyes shut and ignoring his empty threat. “What kind of teenager are you?”

“One that plans to go to college and needs to have good attendance to do so,” He laughs as if this is a laughing matter, when obviously, it isn’t at all.

“See, well, that’s where you and I are different, Wes. I’m not going to college, therefore, I don’t need to go to school,” I reason.

“Oh, but you do, darling. Isn’t your thing with Conrad for English due today anyway?”

“Oh, shoot!” I groan, sitting up in my bed and remembering that our project really is due today.

“So, I’ll be there to get you at around 8:30, is that cool?” Wesley wonders, realizing that he’s right.

“I guess so,” I sigh heavily and dramatically. “But I expect you to have food, mister.”

“I don’t know how I started dating such a drama queen,” He jokes. “But yes, I will have food, I promise.”

“Okay, then I’m going to get ready for school now and I’ll talk to you later then,” I say to my ridiculously overbearing yet extremely adorable boyfriend before ending the call and running my fingers through my hair lazily. Besides the fact that I don’t want to go to school and that I hate Mondays, I also hate it when I have to wake up and go somewhere when I didn’t get the proper amount of sleep the night prior. Like I said, last night after the world’s most romantic date, Wesley brought me back home at nearly 11:30 and sadly I’m not one of the lucky people that can just lie down and fall asleep; it took me about thirty minutes to actually get tired and fall asleep. So, really, I didn’t go until about 12 o’clock.

Now it’s 7:45 and I’m expected to wake up and actually function like a normal human being? That’s totally and completely preposterous and just absolutely ridiculous. Conrad’s lucky that I care about him and our friendship and somewhat about our grade, because if not, I’d totally blow this whole day off. Going through the contacts in my iPhone, I find Conrad’s number above Madison’s and hit the call button, bringing the phone up to my ear as I wait. The phone rings three times and then Conrad’s gruff voice says.

“Steffy?” He answers, his voice confused, as if we never talk or something.

“Yeah, hey, Conrad,” I greet. “Um, did I wake you up or something?” I ask him.

“Yeah, you did,” Conrad confirms, clearing his throat. “It’s cool though; what’s up?”

“I was just wondering, is our project good and ready to go and all that good stuff?”