Started With a Tube

Started With a Tube - Chapter 3

Started With a Tube - Chapter 3

I reply to Jamie's message quickly, adding a smiley face at the end for good measure. That's the thing about talking to her, unless I show obviously that I'm not annoyed with her, she'll think I am. Tragic, I know; but not really.

I scroll through the messages on my phone blankly, before grinning and switching over to my photos. I click on the last one taken and smile widely. It's a picture of me and Alec on the London Eye, one we took yesterday. His head is tilted to the side, towards me, and his eyes are bright and warm. My face, for once, doesn't look that bad. I don't photograph well, but with Alec beside me, I could almost call myself pretty.

And it feels really nice.

Now, usually I hate that word; nice. It's so boring, and it doesn't do description justice. Anything can be nice. You can say that a person is nice, whether you mean it or not, or their appearance. Or the weather; the weather's nice. But does that mean it's really, really sunny, or just not-raining?

I don't know, I guess what I'm trying to say is that nice isn't a word I usually use, but in the context of this photograph and how it makes me feel, it does make me feel nice. The warm and fuzzy nice. The makes-your-heart-beat-faster kind of nice.

I skip through the photos, grinning like a madman, until I reach the end. Turning off my phone, I dump it on the edge of my bed and get up. I open my curtains to reveal a heavy drizzle of rain sloshing down outside.

Great.

And I mean it when I say great, because believe it or not, I actually like rain - crazy, I know, but hear me out. I love how safe I feel inside when it's wet and miserable outside, because I know it can't touch me when I'm cuddled up indoors.

There's also the way that the rain leaves this gleam on the pavement, and how everything appears cleaner after rain. It like everything's been wiped down and straightened up, sorted out.

Also, I don't feel guilty about not going outside when it rains.

Deciding to have a chilled day spent mostly on the sofa, I grab a pair of grey jogger bottoms and a blue vest top, then make my way to the bathroom where I shower quickly. I look at myself in the mirror for a bit. I'm pale - I've always been pale. It's not that I don't tan, it's just I prefer indoors. My face is fine, let's leave it at that.

I've never been someone who worries about their appearance. I just honestly don't see the point in it; this is the face I have, I can't change it. But I'm also not totally against makeup. I like it, I like putting it on, but I certainly don't wear it lounging around the house.

After I'm finished in the bathroom, I wander downstairs to the kitchen, where I find mum folding some dry clothes. As soon as I set foot in the room, I cringe as I know what's coming. "Morning, Cat. Could you give me a hand with these?" I sigh and nod, deciding not to annoy her. "Thanks honey. Have you got much planned for today? Dad's at work, and I'm leaving to meet some friends. We're going to the gym, then having lunch. Probably go shopping afterwards. And I think Mark's in town with his friends. Are you planning on staying in?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I think I'll just watch some movies or something."

"Okay, well you can invite some people over if you want, you know the rules," she says. When I turned fourteen my parents laid me down some ground-rules of their conditions on when I have friends over. Basically:

No loud music.

No alcohol.

No more than four people over at a time.

Nothing illegal/stupid should be done.

My parents trust me and my brother, but they like having these boundaries. If I'm honest, they're pretty lenient parents. They pretty much let us do what we want, however if we got in trouble with school or the law, our lives wouldn't be worth living. My mum can be scary.