Annie
I awoke slowly, first with the dull sound of my surroundings filtering in, and then with small movements from my legs. My eyes opened next, adjusting to the light, less bright than I expected. When I was more alert, I was aware of the sound that had woken me: my phone was ringing from the kitchen.
I checked the clock above the fridge as I wandered into the room groggily, it was 6 o’clock. Nobody rung at six in the morning for a mundane matter, so I rationalised that it was an urgent call. My mind quickly flicked to the most likely situation: someone had been in an accident. Had my parents had a car crash, or was it my elderly grandma that had passed away? I was cynical that way, or perhaps not fully awake, and my mind was still in an unrealistic dream-state.
The kitchen tiles were cold on my bare feet, but I was more focused on the object in my hands. Without looking at the caller ID, I hit answer and lifted it to my ear.
“Hello?” My voice sounded tired, with a bit of a growl in it. I cleared my throat.
“Hey Annie, it’s Nathan. I’m in your building. What apartment are you in again?”
Both the voice and the question caught me off guard.
“Seventeen. Why are you at my apartment?” My tone was accusing.
“Two seconds,” he replied, and I heard the beep of the phone hanging up. A knock at the door sounded seconds later.
Great. I was still in my embarrassing pyjamas, my hair was no doubt a knotty mess, and the apartment looked like it had been trashed from a party the night before. Of course Nathan had to see me like this.
Nonetheless, I walked to the door and unlocked the deadbolt. Nathan looked predictably perfect – dressed in board shorts and a singlet, with sunglasses on his head and car keys jangling at his side. His hair was messy but styled, and his eyes lacked the sunken blue bags that mine accompanied. He sent me a warm smile as he came inside, and I cringed when I saw him visibly take a second to process his surroundings.
“Wow, I was under the impression that you were a tidy person,” he laughed. “It seems I’m mistaken.”
I mumbled a response about meaning to clean it. It was true – the thought had crossed my mind several times, but I’d procrastinated and here we were.
He now turned to me, and chuckled. “Purple rainbow pyjamas? This day gets better and better.”
“They’re comfy,” I protested, pulling at my jammies that were a little too small – they’d shrunk in the wash. They were made of that cotton that became furrier and comfier the more you wore them.
“So why have you woken me at six in the morning?” I asked, leading him to the kitchen. I switched on the coffee machine and hunted for a mug as it whirred in preparation. “Coffee?”
“No thanks. I’ve decided that we’re going surfing, and I’m going to teach you.” He sounded like a proud kindergarten kid, presenting his parents with his genius idea.
“Do I get a say in this?”
“Nope. Today’s the best day to do it. During the week you work in the mornings, and on Sunday we’re going out and having a late night. So Saturday it is.” He leant against the counter and watched me wait for the coffee to leak out. When it was done, I took a sip and burnt the tip of my tongue.
“At six in the morning? You decided to wake me at six in the morning to go surfing?” I gestured to a window that overlooked the street. It was still fairly dark outside, and the sun was only just beginning to rise on the horizon. “It’s still dark outside!”
