Blown Away (CURRENTLY EDITING)

Chapter 8: Varsity Saturday

NARRATOR'S POV (aka ME)

The morning sun was shining a warm, golden yellow, and the sky was painted with tints of pink, orange, blue, and even purple, and splotched with white clouds. The morning dew was coated in beads on the grass. Slowly, something, or might I say someone, began to stir from their slumber...

ABI'S POV

I felt the warm feeling of sunlight beaming on my face, and I realize I probably left the curtains open in my room. About five seconds later, though, my senses kick in. Why is my bed so hard and cold? And when did Wen get here? I slowly open my eyes and see Travis laying next to me.

Suddenly, realization hits me square in the face and everything from last night replays in my head. So, I wasn't dreaming. Travis really loves me, I really love him, he stole my first kiss, and he knows about the whole issue with my dad. I open my eyes wider and realize he's awake. How long has he been up?

"Mornin', beautiful," he drawled. Wow, I haven't heard him call me that before. Well, there's a first to everything, right?

"Mornin'. How long've you been up?"

"About five minutes. I didn't wanna wake ya."

"Smart boy. Now, what's the game plan for breakfast?"

"I say head back to your place and think of something from there."

"I can cook it!" I fistbump the air while he chuckles.

"Alright, darlin', you can cook." Again with the nicknames. Now I really need to know where we stand. I mean, stuff like this can't happen overnight in real life, so I might as well make sure.

We hop out of his bed and into his truck, leaving the bed there to clean up later. He then turns on his Pandora, and out of the blue, Cruise by Florida Georgia Line comes on. So, now, we've got the windows rolled down, I'm dancing like an idiot, and we're both singing at the top of our lungs. By the time we get back to the house, the song's over. We hop out if his truck and head into my house, where everyone's crashed in the living room. Tucker and Vanessa are snuggled on the couch, Stacey, Mikayla, and Leah are sleeping in the three armchairs we have, and the rest of the guys are all sprawled out in the center of the group either on the floor with just a blanket or in a sleeping bag. Turning my head, Travis is on his phone looking at something, and apparently it's the Reveille, so now everyone's just screaming their heads off and freaking out. It was way too hilarious, but then we get the glares that tell us otherwise.

"What the hell, guys," they shout angrily.

"Sorry, we had to get you up for breakfast," Travis replied.

"Besides, I'm making pancakes." Immediately their eyes bulge and a bunch of hollering and whooping goes on for about 30 seconds.

"Oh, by the way, Travis, some of the guys from the Varsity team came over last night. They told us they were looking for you, so we let then crash out back."

"You let the varsity team stay here overnight!?! How am I gonna make that many pancakes!?!"

"You'll do it, you've done it before," Chris, Hunter, Tucker, Charlie, Wen, Lea, and Travis reply at the same time in the same mischievous voice. Curse my cooking skills.

"Whatever, just don't wake them up until I have at least half of them done, got it?"

"Got it," everyone replied.

Now while I'm making the pancakes, let me tell you about the Varsity football team. And, before I begin, I have absolutely no clue what everyone's wearing, what they're like, and (more importantly) the entire varsity team. All I know is a few of their names and their jersey numbers. Charlie Gonzalez (#62), Scott Lowe (#52), Mason Lowe (#19), Erik Lewis (#41), Tony Knight (#70), Adam Smith (#26), Tyler Smith (#38), Cyrus James Williams (#32), Cole Martin (#23), and Dylan Martin (#17). Social now I've got a 1/6-1/4 of the pancakes done (the football players eat a lot), and I eventually get bored. That's kinda expected, right? So I turn on the radio that we have in the kitchen as Kix is playing Boys 'Round Here by Blake Shelton. And at the same time I'm making pancakes, I'm dancing around the kitchen in my pajamas and a pair of socks who my hair thrown up in a messy ponytail. By the time the song's over, people start talking about something, which is when I feel a weird feeling. Like... somebody's watching me. So, I look at the window, but it's closed.