Mars? Yeah Right!

Chapter 7

7

I woke up the next morning with one hell of a headache, a stiff neck and the distinct feeling that someone had crept into my room during the night and run over me with a bus. I hadn't managed to get to sleep until about half four thanks to me spending most of the night agonising over what I was gonna say to Kevin when I saw him.

I leavered myself slowly off the bed, wincing at the now obvious pain in my lower back and groaned. "Holy crap that hurts!" But then again, I suppose that it was my own fault for falling asleep sitting up and fully clothed in the first place.

I went into my ensuite bathroom and after a boiling hot twenty minute shower, felt marginally better. The heat had loosened up my muscles slightly, though it still felt like someone was sticking a large, pointy stick into my back and neck. I picked up my phone, looked at the time and sighed.

Half nine.

It so figured.

I quickly got dressed then ambled out to the kitchen to scrounge for something to eat. Eventually, I settled on the exciting, nutritious meal of toast and tea.

Woo.

As I sat there munching away, my gaze wandered over to the window and settled on the McGregor's house on the opposite side of the low garden fence. The toast turned to mushy cardboard in my mouth as I realised that Kevin would be coming over in just three short hours.

What the hell am I gonna say to him? I thought anxiously to myself. As you've probably gathered by now, apologising isn't exactly one of my strong points. I'm more of a "speak my mind, then run away!" sort of girl.

Not the best ethos to have when it comes to dealing with other people.

I sat at the kitchen table, chewing my now tasteless breakfast for the next half an hour. Eventually, after nearly choking myself numerous times, I gave up trying to force it down and drank my tea instead. I was just standing up to dump my half-eaten toat into the bin, when my mother walked in, yawning loudly. "Good morning honey!"

I grunted in reply, then continued cleaning.

"Did you sleep okay?" Mam asked, as she opened the press to get herself a mug. I paused. Should I tell her? Eventually I decided to stick to my original plan of secrecy and nodded.

"I slept okay. You?"

"Yeah, grand. Although your dad did manage to wake me up at about half three once again with his snoring. I swear, that man-"

"I do not snore!"

This exclaimation was from Dad as he entered the kitchen, a vision (*cough cough*) in faded Homer Simpson pyjamas under a tartan dressing gown.

"Gerry darling, don't tell me you're still in a state of denial about that."

"There's no denial because it's not true! Right Aine?"

Despite my still churning insides and pounding head, I laughed. My parents were always hilarious when they were together. I mean, the pair of them are as odd as two left shoes, but I really don't think I've ever seen a more perfect couple.

"Sorry Dad, I'm with Mam on this one."

Dad sighed. "Women! They always conspire against your sleeping habits!"

Both myself and Mam laughed, then I headed for the door to go and get dressed, wondering what exactly one wears when apologising to a guy who's soul you may or may not have crushed.