Chapter 6: First Day Worst Day

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Special thanks to my best friend. You know who you are and without you, alot of things in my life wouldn't be possible. 

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BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Mmmm....” I mumble as I roll over and slam my hand on top of my alarm clock, effectively stopping the earsplitting noise that erupts from it, disturbing my peaceful sleep. 

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and sit up. My face feels sticky from the tears of last night. Yeah, crying yourself to sleep isn’t the best beauty trick.

Groaning, I slip out of bed and into my bathroom, annoyed at the thought that I’ll probably have puffy and red eyes on my first day of school. 

I look in the mirror and sigh in relief. My eyes are only a little red and not all that puffy, but there’s leftover trails that glimmer in the light from the tears. 

I shake my head and wash my face. I can’t believe I broke down like that. I don’t cry. Like, ever. It’s just out of character for me. I’m that tough girl that doesn’t take shit from anybody, but now I’m crying myself to sleep? That’s just not me.

It’s Hayden’s fault. I think. He pushed me, questioning me about something that was obviously a touchy subject. 

Sighing, I step out of my bathroom and walk into my closet, picking my outfit for the day. Pretty much beyond the point of giving a shit about what people think of me, I decide to wear my favorite t-shirt from a concert I went to last summer and some black denim shorts along with my grey high top converses. 

I walk back into the bathroom and run my brush through my hair a few times. It’s falls in simple, natural waves so I decide to leave it. I dab a little cover up under my eyes to hide the bruises there from lack of sleep and flick some mascara on my eyelashes. Yeah, that’ll have to do because I’m to lazy to do anything else. 

I walk back into my room, grab my freshly bought backpack, filled with pencils and notebooks, and head downstairs, my growling stomach propelling me forward. 

I walk into the kitchen and see Miss Abby flipping pancakes. 

“Morning...” I say through a yawn. 

She smiles warmly at me as she turns around. “Good morning, Alex! How’d ya sleep?”

I walk over to the bar counter and plop down, dropping my bag at my feet. “Pretty good. You?”

“I slept, well thank you.” She walks over and sets a plate of pancakes in front of me along with a small pitcher of syrup. I help myself and start scarfing down fluffy goodness. Miss Abby laughs and I swallow loudly. “Uh, I’m sorry, it’s just I-”

“Really like pancakes?” she finishes for me. I nod shyly. She laughs again and I blush. “I’m just glad that you can still eat even when you’re nervous.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually not that nervous.” I cough. “I mean, it’s just school...” 

She smiles widely. “Good. I’m glad you’re not nervous.” She laughs again. “You know, it’s not every day we find someone who loves pancakes as much as Hayden does.”

“Psh. No one loves pancakes as much as I do.” Hayden says as he struts into the kitchen, hair a wavy mess and wearing a plain white t-shirt, dark jeans and navy blue converses, his backpack slung over his shoulder. 

I almost sigh. He literally embodies everything I find attractive in a guy: Simpleness with the plain t, messing sleep hair, and those damn Chuck Taylor’s on his feet. Of course he would have to dress just how I like. Freaking fantastic. Now hating him will get a little bit harder. 

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