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Chapter 6 - Piano Meltdown
I felt my outer atmosphere bright with sunlight and slowly fluttered my eyes open. I blinked several times and sat up. That's when I realized I was still sitting on the computer chair. The only thing was, I had a blanket covered over me. I rubbed my eyes and spotted the phone sitting on the desktop table. It was Lucas' phone. He didn't go home? I lifted up my covers and picked up the phone, turning it on to check the time. It was 7:30 am. Then my eyes took notice of Lucas' picture on the lock screen. I smiled ever so lightly looking at his smile on the screen, but I'm pretty sure my smile was so small you couldn't see it.
I walked out of the family room, upstairs and knocked on the guest room. No one answered so I slowly turned the knob. Inside was Lucas, still sleeping under the white covers with the light filtering through the room. I walked up to him and called his name. He didn't respond. I shook him and he flipped to the other side.
"Lucas, wake up!" I said, irritated now. "Lucas!" I screamed in his ear. He jolted up in a sitting position, and placed a palm over his heart. I realized he didn't have his top on. I also noticed the tattoo on his shoulder, something like a picture and some words I couldn't make out.
"Stop scaring me like that," he said, looking at me.
"Why didn't you go home?" I said. He reached for his backpack which was on the night‐stand next to him and took out his gym clothes.
"Well, you were falling asleep last night and I decided to just put the song on for however long it lasts. I left the phone downstairs and you fell asleep, apparently," he explained, putting his jersey on.
"You should've waken me up then," I said. He shrugged and I gave his phone back. "We have thirty minutes to go to school." He stretched and grinned at me.
"What?" I said, furrowing my brows.
"Nothing," he said. I was really suspicious as he got off the bed, and thank God he had his jeans on. I wouldn't want to see him in boxers.
"Well, thanks for the blanket," I said, turning around and walking out of the room before he said anything. I had to remind myself he was still the popular guy and he had no idea who I was. I just want him to know so I have it off of my chest. It was really worrisome. Once I was in the kitchen, I put some bread in the toaster for both of us. I was still thinking about his tattoo, and the inked lettering that was written in cursive. I couldn't even make out the picture that was lightly etched behind the words. The pop of the toaster startled me and I sighed, walking over and pulling them out. Just as I was putting out the peanut butter and strawberry jam, Lucas came into the kitchen with his hair still a little messy.
"You're making toast for me?" he said a little enthusiastically.
"You have to apply what you want," I said, putting out the little bottles and lining them up in front of the toast. "This isn't too, how do you say it, too 'mature' or too 'classy' for you. You know what I mean? You probably have a hearty meal every day and very proper and healthy food like salads and stuff."
"It might be true," he said, taking his plate. "But I like to take a break once in a while. I love PB&J sandwiches." I raised my eyebrow and took a bite into my empty toasted bread slice. "That's disgusting," he said to me with his mouth full. "Eating it alone."
"It's not very polite to talk with your mouth full," I said.
"Then I'm a lot more impolite than you think," he said. "I'm not very suave like the other rich guys." I can tell.
I finished before he did and grabbed my backpack. The sun was already up and shining across the Mercedes Benz. I should've been jealous of Lucas for many reasons, but having this kind of car made me especially envious. Well, apart from the guitar thing.
Once we were on the road, I ducked my head like usual and rubbed my forehead. I felt like I was missing something, I didn't know what. At a red light, Lucas started to tap his fingers on the steering wheel. I remembered how my mom used to do that when she was impatient.
"Through the guest room," Lucas said, grabbing my attention. "I saw your backyard. You never showed me your backyard."
"There's nothing exciting to see anyways," I said, putting my cheek against my thigh. He glanced over at me briefly and his lip tipped up.
