Marry Me

Chapter Three

Graham

*beep beep beep*

*This is Nico North coming at you live on this beautiful, sunny, Friday morning from 93.9 fm. Get out of bed and face your day. This is Cruise, by rising country music stars, Florida Georgia Line.*

I roll over in my bed, feeling for Lexie right next to me. Empty space.

I groan, wishing that stupid beeping noise would shut off already. I pull the pillow I lay my head on and smash it over my ears and face to eliminate that damn noise. It didn't work and the pillow smelled... different.

I roll over again, feeling around to shut off that horrible noise. It turns out, I misjudged the length of my bed because I fall flat onto the ground.

Still, barely opening my eyes, I reach up to where I hear the noise. I smack the clock until it shuts off. Wait, clock? I haven't used an alarm clock since high school.

I open my eyes wider and almost jump out of my own skin. I look around the unfamiliar place, but somehow, I recognize it. And then it comes to me, I'm in my old bedroom. The bedroom that I grew up in. I stand to my feet, but my legs wobble and I fall back to the ground.

I hear a knock on the door. Lexie? "Graham, are you okay in there? I heard a loud noise."

The voice sounds almost foreign to me, but I know it's my dad. I'm dreaming. All those things that Lexie was saying last night made me think about my old life. I smack myself in the face. Wake up.

I hear another knock on the door, "Graham?"

"Yeah Da-d," the word feels so foreign off of my tongue, "I'm good."

"Okay, get ready for school." He says.

"School?" I squeak. What the hell? Am I going through puberty again?

He opens the door, the sight almost knocks me off of my feet. I haven't seen him in so long. He looks just like I remember, young, but his eyes show so much age, as if they belong to an eighty year old man rather than a thirty something year old.

"Da-d, what year is it?" I squeak again.

"It's 2012, Graham are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be right downstairs."

"Okay," He says uneasily, shutting the door to my bedroom.

I look around, this place was mine. All of the old football posters, the #11 signs hung up all over my room. The photos of my brother and I and the one of my mother. I thought for sure he got rid of all my stuff by now. He said it's 2012? It's 2018, he must be going crazy.

"This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening." I mumble to myself as I switch on the light to my bathroom. I look in he mirror and cover my mouth so my dad doesn't hear my scream. It's me, but younger. Like way younger. I have leaner muscles, a younger face, and acne. What the hell? I touch the mirror with my fingertips, then I touch the space on my bicep where I had the tattoo of the date that Lexie and I got engaged, May 20th, 2015. It's gone now, like Lexie. Lexie. Where is she? Is she freaking out right now like me, or is she still in 2018?

I'm not giving up the fact that I am in fact dreaming, but I don't know how to wake up. I splash some cold water on my face. It helps me calm down, but I still don't wake up. When I'm done brushing my teeth, I walk over to my calendar and it reads: Friday, September 20th, 2012. Okay, so my dad isn't going crazy, I am.

It's Friday, so that means it's a football night. I throw on my jersey, that looks amazing after all of these years, and a pair of jeans and walk downstairs.