❝if we wait until we're ready,
we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives❞
ｌｅｍｏｎｙ ｓｎｉｃｋｅｔ
___
ＴＨＥＲＥ is a consequence to everything. Nothing comes without that little fine-print warning in font size 6.5.
The consequence of letting your possibly insomniac childhood best friend talk you into extending your training sessions together for an extra hour on a school night is that you'll probably end up feeling sleep-deprived for the rest of the following day.
The consequence of allowing your occasionally erratic aunt to choose her ringtone on your phone is that a cheesy pop song from the 80s will probably eventually come blasting through your phone in the middle of breakfast.
The consequence of being partially sleep deprived when said phone starts blasting out said 80s ringtone is that you'll probably get a pair of earphones thrown at you, along with a grumpy comment on how it's "too early for ABBA".
After trying (and failing) to catch the earphones in time, I quickly connect them to my phone and answer Aunt Victoria's call.
"Hey, Aunt V, I'm kind of in the middle of something right now..." namely eating.
"Sorry, Em. Just saw your missed call and the text from last night. How was it?"
How was...? Oh.
"It hasn't happened yet," I reply.
"Really?"
"No. It's tomorrow... and after lunch."
"Oh."
From her side of the phone, I hear a slightly muffled voice say, "I told you the timezone was behind not ahead."
"Shush you."
"Is that uncle Ted?" I question.
"Yeah. You're on loudspeaker, by the way. We're taking Cleo to the vet. He's currently got his hands full, trying to get her not to maim us," she explains lightly, accompanying the last comment with an endearing sigh. "So, how're you feeling?"
"About it?"
"Mhmm," she murmurs in confirmation.
"Nervous," I admit.
"Don't be," she replies kindly. "I'm sure it will be okay."
My face twists with doubt. "Will it? Really?"
"Yes, it will. As long as you do your best, nothing else is important. Now, I need to go, hon. We'll talk later, okay? Love you."
"Okay. Bye," I mumble back. "Love you too."
Withdrawing my recently acquired earphones from my ears, I look up to face the rest of my table. "Sorry," I apologise. "That was my aunt."
Their curious looks melt away, replaced with understanding nods as they in turn return to their meals.
"Was the 'it' you were referring to PSD by an chance?" Markus asks. "You nervous about it."
YOU ARE READING
Freaks
AdventureEMERSON SPARKE'S RULES ON HOW TO BE NORMAL: 1. Avoid having a secret alter ego to cover up the fact that everyone you used to know thinks you're dead 2. Don't accidentally blow up half your high school - being deemed a threat to society is all fun...
