Dreamers

Chapter 1

Ally’s POV

            It’s early December of my senior year of high school, and I am stressing about finals. I kind of slacked off during second quarter, and it’s coming back to bite me in the butt. I don’t know what happened at all during physics for the past month, I have a seven-page essay on Les Misérables due tomorrow that I barely have an outline for, and, oh, did I mention, it’s one in the morning.

            I sigh, push my physics book aside, and pick up my phone. I pull my knees up to my chin in my swivel chair and check out the texts I’ve gotten in the past two hours.

            Which amount to approximately none. I mean, what was I expecting? Since my episode with Alex Gilligan last month, I have plummeted in popularity. I was never one of those girls who fed off their social status, but my contagious laugh and my supposed good looks have made me well known over the past three and a half years of high school.

Well known enough to date Cole Wilfred, I think to myself, but then quickly block the thought from my mind.  

Cole Wilfred is no near worthy enough to enter my thoughts.

I sigh and put my phone back down on my desk and plug it into the charger before taking out my laptop and pulling up the outline of my essay.

All I have to do is add some fancy words and take out the Roman Numerals, I tell myself. And make sure it’s seven pages.

I pull my thick, unruly brunette hair up into a bun, where it’s out of my way, and set to work.

An hour and a half later, I hit print and go to collect my seven pages from the printer in my parents’ office. I turn the printer off and head back to my room. I staple the essay and put it on my desk so I can put it in my backpack tomorrow morning. I pull on my fleece pajama pants and a t-shirt and climb into bed, turning off the light and pulling the comforter over my head.

The next morning I nearly oversleep my alarm, which happens to be set to One Direction’s new album.

I roll out of bed and dig through my dresser in search of a clean pair of jeans. I find a pair that’s a little too small, but I wiggle into them anyways. I don’t feel like picking out an outfit today, plus I don’t really have enough time, so I pull on a hoodie sweatshirt before heading over to the mirror to see what I can do with my hair.

I pull it out of its bun and it hangs down to my mid chest. I didn’t shower last night, and I don’t have time now. I pull it back into a loose French braid before going over to my mirror and small vanity. I apply a bit of concealer to a giant red spot on my forehead and a bit of eyeliner and mascara. I’m not usually a big makeup person, and today is no exception.

When I go downstairs, my family is already in the kitchen. My sister, Mimi, is sitting at the table texting and eating a bowl of cereal. She’s a sophomore at my school and seems to have a never-ending supply of friends and boyfriends. My dad is just running out the door to go to work, and yells a quick “goodbye” and “I love you” before running out to his car.