sophialillis just followed you!
i immediately follow her back and burrow back under my covers. it was a nice morning, we'd just had a nice conversation. it was also a saturday, thank the lord. the sun was shining through my blinds, practically blinding me.
my neck was cramping, so i shift into a sitting position. some of the warmth leaving me, making me feel robbed.
"honey! good morning!" my mom exclaims and bursts into my room. she was sporting a giant grin on her face that i really didn't like the sight of. no offence mom, but it's too early.
"mom, it's only like," i pause to look at my clock. "uh.... ten o' clock,"
"yes, exactly! which is why we're going out to breakfast!" mom says and twirls around. she sings the last part of her sentence. "meet me in the car, i'll be there."
i groaned as she left my room in a ginger blur. i slump onto my legs in front of me and roll off my bed, thumping on the floor. my mom's enthusiasm kind of scares me sometimes. she was way too peppy for an adult.
i open a dm with sophia and start typing.
l.jones
kill me my mom is taking me to breakfast. it's so early
sophialillis
r u still in bed
l.jones
...maybe...
sophialillis
i'm disappointed in you
l.jones
oops ?
we talk as if we've been friends for forever but we've only been talking for a month.
i get off of my floor, crawling over to the door that was left wide open by my incredibly hyper mother, and slam it shut. i crawl to my dresser and put my phone on top.
i open the middle drawer and pull out a pair of mom jeans, and a dark blue, but bright, hawaiian shirt.
as i was tucking my shirt in, i ran a brush through my hair (well, try) and give up.
i stuff my phone and earbuds in my front pockets and stroll out my door.
slipping on converse (untied), i grab my keys and check that my mom isn't in the house still. she's in our car, probably singing along to some pop song.
i lock the door, and run towards the car.
opening the door, i get blasted with i'm a believer.
"mom, turn that down or i swear to jesus murphy that i will break the car," i say, plopping myself down onto the car seat and slamming the car door shut.
she does and gives me a smirk.
"well someone's tired," she says and backs out of our driveway. "you'll have to be happier! you'll get even more grumpy if you actually pay attention to the traffic."
she has the nerve to laugh. she knows that i absolutely hate la traffic. everybody's honking and anxious and wanting to kill the other drivers. i am one of those people. i want to kill all the drivers.
we'd only moved to la a few months ago, at the start of summer. it was hard to get used to, mostly because i'd left all my friends back in ottawa, and even my dad.
