Wherever You Are [COMPLETED]

III. Grudge Style and Water Ice

Picture on the side is of Rita's if anyone is unfamiliar with it! 

III. Grudge Style and Water Ice

“Dylan! Abigail! Breakfast’s ready!” A voice, I’m assuming Aunt , yells from the kitchen downstairs. I roll out of bed and onto the floor, not caring about sanitation. I crawl toward my bed room door – grudge style, mind you – and lean up to turn the knob. The world was a blur because my glasses were still on the dresser where I last left them. I didn’t feel like I needed glasses to perform the trivial task of brushing my teeth. I continue crawling on the floor and turn to head and body toward the direction of the bathroom. A couple more steps and I’ll be there. I didn’t feel like doing anything and was actually getting something out of crawling on the floor. I crack myself up.

I reached up to turn the knob on the door to the bathroom. Twist. It’s locked. I twist it frantically and eventually get up to twist some more. I eventually start banging on the door like a madman when it opens, exposing a shirtless Dylan. Oh yeah…

 I seemed to have forgotten about the events yesterday after I cried myself to sleep. I started at him blankly for a minute, my eyes drifting down to his bare, chiseled torso.

“Like what you see?” he asks cheekily. I roll my eyes and feel something blocking me from doing so. Oh yeah… Second realization of the day: I cried last night. My eyes are puffy as if I was doing the chubby bunny challenge with my eyes. Not the best picture to imagine but that’s what it felt like. As if realizing what a mess I looked like, his eyes widened and he asked, “Whoa, what happened, Abby?” I tried to roll my eyes again and eventually gave up, walking back to my room, defeated.

When I felt that it’s been long enough, I opened my bedroom door, only to reveal a clothed Dylan with his fist in the air. He puts his balled fist down and blushes while looking at the ground. That was kinda cute, I thought. Oh my gosh, what am I thinking??

“Hey,” he says, trying to play off his fumble, “How’s life?”

“Swell,” I say, amused at his embarrassment. “How’s yours?”

“What?”

“Your life,” I clarify.

“Oh, good.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, um, I’m done with the bathroom, you can, you know.”

“Sure, thanks.” I smile at him and he returns it.

“Look who finally decided to crawl out of the lion’s den,” my aunt jokingly announced. I chuckled at the fact that she didn’t know I had actually crawled out of my ‘den’. “Morning, Abby.”

“Morning Aunt Tessa, Elaine,” I paused in thought before continuing, “Dylan.” He smiled and I took a seat next to him at the table.

“Isn’t this nostalgic? Just like old times-” Dylan started to speak but I got up from my chair at the memory. That’s right. I’m Abigail, the nerd that is enemies with Dylan Rivers, the jock. Sitting next to him would mean death, no matter where I am. I mustn’t let my guard down.

Dylan looked at me, surprised and confused as to why I decided to move one chair to the left of where we were sitting. There was now a seat in between the both of us.

“Oh, come on, Abby. Stop being childish. Get over here,” my aunt scolded. I reluctantly went back to my original position next to Dylan. He smirked and I rolled my eyes as I started to poke at my pancakes.

“Why don’t you show Dylan around after you’re done with the dishes?” my aunt Tessa called from the living room. I could feel Dylan smirking next to me as he, yet again, helps me with the dishes.