words i didn't say ~ cmb [COMPLETED ✓ ]

ch. 7

 i open my eyes and i'm sitting on the swing on my porch.

the sun is coming up, 5:25, my phone reads. i have another sweatshirt on top of me.

i look next to me and i see mel, sleeping on the side of the swing.

we stayed up almost all night talking about our problems.

i shake him, "mel... wake up," i whisper.

his eyelids blink open.

"ahh, i'm so sorry. i fell asleep,"  he says, scratching his neck.

"it's fine. i fell asleep as well. it's 5:27 so i would get up," i tell him.

"yeah. thanks for talking with me. i'll go home," he says, getting up as i hand him his sweatshirt back.

"naw... keep my sweatshirt. you might get cold later," he smiles warmly.

"i'll see you later!" i call out.

"i hope to run into you soon!" he yells, walking back to his house.

i smile and walk inside.

marielle was still asleep so i ran into my room to change.  i wanted to be out of the house before she woke up.

i get into jean shorts and wear mel's sweatshirt. i slip on some slippers and grab my phone and wallet.

i stroll into town and admire the shops with the reflection of the rising sun on them.

i walk into a small donut shop and get a coffee with a glazed donut.

"double that please," a voice says from behind me.

 i turn around and see corbyn smiling, holding out a five dollar bill to the man.

we sit down at the window and i sip my coffee.

"so, where were you last night?" he asks, one eyebrow up.

"at home. why do you ask?" i lie, looking him in the face.

"marielle called and asked if you were at our house. now where were you?" he smirks, knowing he's caught me.

"i was down at the shore. it calms me so i was sitting there," i sigh, taking a bite of the glazed donut.

"hmm... okay. also, i have another question to ask you," he nods as if he's suspicious.

"keep asking, sparky," i shrug, a sign that i have nothing else to hide.

"who's sweatshirt are you wearing? i've never seen it in your closet," he squints.

"it's new," i lie once more.

"it says 'gold league 2009'. i doubt that your sweatshirt is actually new," he scoffs.

"it's a friend's sweatshirt. why does it matter to you?" i ask, looking at him suspiciously.

"it matters because that friend must be a boy," he says, eyes wide, trying to make a point.

that gave me an idea. "it is a boy's sweatshirt. it's val's," i say, making it a believable lie.

"val's the same age as you. that's 9U," he points out something i didn't notice.

"actually, that's the team that jordan was on..." corbyn says, putting pieces together.

"the only other person you know on that team would be..." he stops.

"why are you wearing mel's sweatshirt, azalea?" corbyn asks in all seriousness.