My Bestfriend: The Player

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Bring. Bring. Bring. My alarm clock screams in my ear, begging me to get up. I feel a sudden urge to throw that dumb thing out the window of my 3 story house, when I hear a voice.

"Grace," my best friend, Parker, says.

"What are you doing here?" I ask curiously. He wasn't supposed to be here until 7:30, let alone 6:00.

"I'm here to help you get all prettied up for the first day of school," he exclaims, clapping his hands together.

"Parker. Get out," I laugh.

"No. Now get your lazy butt out of bed," he says. The next thing I know I'm getting whacked in the head with a pillow.

"Why?" I groan, as I roll over and pull the covers over my head.

"Grace. Don't make me," Parker says very slowly and viciously. I freeze. Oh God. He starts jabbing his fingers in my tummy, causing me to laugh hysterically.

"Par-r-rker. P-p-please. S-s-stop-p," I shriek. "I'll get up, I swear!" Finally, after what seems like 20 minutes worth of tickling, he stops.

I slowly swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand up, stretching in every single way humanly possible.

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⏰ Last updated: May 10, 2014 ⏰

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