Camera Girl

6:00am - Plans (Part I)

Peter's POV

I woke up without knowing why. It was a Saturday, and it felt weird to wake up at this time. Unless it was NSTP, there was no way I would be waking up at this time. I arrived at 4am in the house, looking like I completely wasted myself up.

The way that I looked at Blair was different. Her eyes, face, body built, and figure is enough for me to say that she's my ideal girl physically. But I can't fall in love instantly yet with that. What made me fall for her instantly was how she was dedicated, hard working, honest, straight, witty, smart, and beautiful.

Beautiful.

But I can't profess my love yet for her. She's going through a lot right now. And by the looks of it, it crashed and sunk to her hard like the way Titanic fell after it must've crashed on the iceberg and the ship was going to go into the deep blue ocean.

I thought long and hard on how I tell her that I like her. No wait. Love her. I can't just walk up to her and casually say that. Most guys plan it. And so far, I need a friend to help. So I got my phone, and recently called the one that I had in mind.

I had him on speed dial, and he picked up on the third ring.

"Dude, what the actual hell? Do you know what time it is?" answered a raspy man voice.

"Sorry, I know it must've been a wake up call for you," I said in an almost whisper.

"No shit, Sherlock," Wes answered in an exasperated voice. "What is it?"

"I need help with something," I said simply. "Come meet me in school in an hour."

"Dude, we don't have classes until 3pm, so we might as well meet at 2pm. Sound good?" Wes asked. I can sense the sleep in his voice.

"Sure sure," I said as he hanged up and the line was dead.

I went back to sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

By the time I woke up at 9am, it was about time to get out of bed and start my day. I basically hit to the bathroom to send myself into a nice cold shower.

By the time I was in the shower, I let the cool water hit me to wake me up. To jolt back into reality. To pounce back in the game. To think again.

After I did that, I changed into my black Pierce The Veil shirt, my military long shorts, and a pair of grey Sperry's. I don't like to dress up that much, so I'd rather not unless I have some gathering that demanded me to.

I turned off my aircon, got out of my room, and I was on my way to the kitchen, where I could see a bunch of pancakes and a couple of blackberries and strawberries that blended each other well with maple syrup. There were also three plates: One for me, for my mom, and for Cheryl. Dad and my mom got divorced a year ago so he isn't here.

Suddenly, my mom came in the kitchen, looking like she had been drunk the night before, but she was just a bed head.

My mom, or her real name is Maria Chanel, is forty - seven years old with curly, strawberry blond hair, tan complexion, brown eyes, lips that resembled Cheryl's, and a figure that men would go after. Basically, she's still got the figure of a twenty year old. She's wearing her lilac nightgown with a thin white robe.

But this morning, she just got out of bed. But even if tired was written all over her face, she still gets up on Saturday mornings for making breakfast for me and my sister, despite the fact that I have Saturday classes.

"Morning mom," I said it with a warm smile.

"Morning," she smiles back. "Where have you been last night?"