16 Days {c.h.}

-eleven-

Day 11

“Good morning, Bella!” Calum’s cheery voice rang through the speakers of my phone.

“Calum I swear to God I’m going to kill you if you keep waking me up before eleven o’clock.” I threaten, sleepily looking to my alarm clock that was currently sporting the time of 9:45.

“But I have a present for you.” He whined.

“Is it sleep?”

“No, but-“

“Then no.” I grumble, hanging up the phone. Not even a minute later it was ringing again.

“Calum what the hell do you want?” I growled, annoyed and very tired.

“Trouble in paradise?” Aubrey giggled.

“There’s no paradise to have trouble in.” I bluntly reply, sitting up after ultimately giving up on sleep, something that rarely happened.

“That’s not what I heard.” She chimed, way too peppy for this early in the morning.

“What did you hear and who do I need to kill?” I yawn, before stretching my arms and flinching at a faint popping sound coming from my shoulder.

“Something and no one.”

“Did you know you’re extremely frustrating?” I ask, heading over to my closet to pick out today’s outfit.

“I’ve been told,” She giggles. “Anyway, Calum called me and said to call him back since you wouldn’t answer if he did… Well, something like that.”

“Alright, I’m going to shower. You should be ashamed for making me wake up at this ungodly hour.” I spoke into the phone, walking to the bathroom with m clothes in hand.

“How do you get up for school?”

“Not easily,” I state, to which she laughs yet again. “See ya later, Aubs.”

“Bye Bella.” She responds, quickly hanging up the phone.

I quickly tapped the music icon, smiling as Green Day’s “American Idiot” came pulsing through the speakers.

 Don’t wanna be an American idiot.

Don’t want a nation under the new mania…

-|-

“Were you ever going to call me back?” Calum teases from where he stands at my front door.

“Watch out, I can lock you out just as fast.” I wink; turning around for him to follow me into the labyrinth I call my house.

“Gabe’s not here?” He asked, confused by the relatively quiet house.

“He had to head back to school today,” I explain, grabbing an apple out of the fruit dish. “And my parents are on a business trip.”

“Do they always go on ‘business trips’ together?” He asks, using his fingers as quotation marks around the words business trips.

“Yeah, I found out long ago they usually use ‘business trips’ as a cover to have sex.” I shrug, biting into the honey crisp apple.

 “That’s disgusting.” He wrinkles his nose.

“Tell that to my scarred 12-year-old self.” I giggle, watching his jaw drop in shock.

“Twelve?!” He gasps.

“Yeah, it was terrible,” I wrinkled my nose. “You don’t even want to know how I found out.”