Lockers slam. New pencils, binders, and notebooks are stored; sure to be lost or destroyed by the end of the year. Girls compare tans while guys compare sports teams stats. More lockers slam.
"Would all Seniors please report to the auditorium?, Would all Seniors please report to the auditorium?" A voice says over the intercom.
Drake snakes his arm around my waist as we head to the auditorium. The Seniors always get a presentation about being "leaders" and "good role models". But the speech is long forgotten by the time the auditorium is cleared.
We take seats in the back of the room and wait. When the room falls quite Drake laces his fingers between mine. I lay my head on his shoulder and inhale deeply. He smells like spearmint toothpaste and freshly mowed grass.
I run a hand through his wavy black hair sits just shy of his eyelashes. "Oh my god. He has eyebrows." I tease. I always joke about him getting a haircut, but I love his hair the way it is. He does one of those hair-flips that pushes his hair to the side. He makes it look so perfect. I would probably get whip-lash if I tried that. With his hair like that you can see his jade green eyes perfectly.
I trace his perfect lips with my finger, pausing at his cupids-bow.
"Sky." He whispers. "I love you. I don't know if you understand how much I love you."
"Drake, I barely understand Algebra 2x, but I understand how much I love you, and how much you love me."
"That's my girl."
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The day goes by extremely slow. The only class I have with Drake is Fourth-Period Art. We get to sit next to each other, though.
"You coming over, Sky?" Drake asks as I slide into the passenger seat of his shiny black B.M.W. "Yes. Where else would I go?"
I'm almost always at Drake's house. Or he's at mine. My parents can't complain because they approve of Skylar, I get good grades, and I don't get into trouble.
"Hey Scott, Hey Nancy." I say as I walk through the door. I stopped calling them "Mr." and "Mrs." a long time ago. "Hello Skylar, Drake."
We head down to Drake's room. After tossing my book-bag onto the floor, I hop onto his bed. I lean over and power on his XBOX and toss him a controller. "Ready to get schooled?" I ask, setting up a game of Call of Duty: Black Ops. "This is why I'm going to marry you one, Skylar."
We both know I suck at video games, but they're still fun to play. After losing ten games in a row Drake finally lets me win.
"I just made you my-" I get cut off by my phone ringing. I hit 'Ignore' and toss my phone on the floor. Drake and I play for a few more hours, then he drives me home.
"I love you." He says. "See you tomorrow, babe." I say, as he climbs back into his car. He doesn't drive away until the door is shut behind me. Typical Drake, he's over protective.
I'm greeted by my little sister. She just turned thirteen, but she's not to terrible when it comes being an annoying teen. "I love your jeans, sis." I say, pointing at my jeans that she's wearing. "I'm sorry, I meant to ask you and..." I cut her off. "Just make sure you put em' back where you found em' kid." It's hard to get mad at her. She really is a good kid.
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Beep Beep Beep. I slam my hand down on my alarm clock, then climb out of bed.
I sit cross-legged in front of my full length mirror as I apply my make-up. I trace my upper eye and lower water-line with a heavy hand, then apply mascara. Then I blend bronzer into my already extremely tan skin. I stand up and take a step back. With my super short denim cut-offs, tank top, and dyed blonde hair, I look like a California-teenager stereo-type.
