Eighty Days of Heartache

the first day; [2]

anything written in italics
is a text from fawn.

anything written in bold
is a text from anyone else.

& all texts will be
in lower case.
[ anything writing in
normal writing is narration ]

➖➖➖

THE FIRST DAY
» PART [2]

"WAIT HE DID what?"

As I stare at my ceiling I realise how boring the shade of white can be when you stare at it for more than an hour, and I become certain my face is the exact same colour because I feel sick to my stomach, as I retell the events that unfolded at Apple Jack's to my best friend Ivy through my phone.

Swallowing I say, "yeah, he wrote his number on my hand and told me to text him my answer."

I stare at the ink which is in fact smudged, but I had the sense to scrawl his number on a piece of paper incase his number was to wash off. But the ink subconsciously burns, teasing and taunting me.

"Nero? As in, senior head boy Nero asked you on a date?" The disbelief and surprise in her voice makes my bottom lip wobble. She knows why this is so weird. Nero hasn't ever dated. His whole life he's ridden solo, and now he suddenly wants to take me on a date? It doesn't add up.

"Yeah!" I make sure my voice is low, because even though my walls are sound proof and my door is locked, I'm worried that my parents, or even worse Blake, will overhear the conversation. "And now I don't know what do to."

"Have to texted him? Called him? Please tell me you at least saved his number?" Her voice is rattling down the phone and through my ears, causing me to wince slightly. She's so damn loud.

Sitting upright on my bed, I say, "I saved his number, but I haven't called or texted him." She groans through the phone, and I can imagine her rolling those pretty beer bottle green eyes at me. "Don't roll your eyes."

"Bitch, have you bugged my room? How did you know I rolled my eyes?" She's shocked, her voice raising in pitch which causes me to giggle; the mood lifted slightly.

"Because, we've been best friends for our whole lives; I know you better than I know myself," the eloquence in my voice doesn't falter because it's the truth, and the truth is always easy to speak.

There's laughter down the line of the phone. I smile, the tinkling chortle that Ivy calls her laugh makes me want to laugh. She wheezes instead of laughs, imitating the sound of a kettle. This girl doesn't laugh. She kettles.

After a short while she sobers up, and I bring my knees to my chest to rest my chin on. "What are you going to do? Blake will die... fuck, I think Luke will die just hearing you're dating his football captain."

I scowl at the mention of her often toxic—tongued boyfriend. Luke and I either got on like a house on fire, or I wanted to set him on fire.

"I don't care about what your boyfriend has to say," I sour at the thought of Luke's shock about me dating, especially since the last person I ever went out with was his older cousin. "I just want to make sure I'm okay."

"So what're you going to do?" There's rustling on the other side of the phone, which slightly overpowers Ivy's voice. "I mean, you don't date, neither does he... but he did make a move."