Operation Marriage

Chapter Six - The First Lesson

Chapter Six - The First Lesson

"You're doing what?" Katie shrieked through the line. I held my phone away from me, fearing she was going to deafen me with that high pitched squeal of hers with such a fast frequency that I feared the windows were going to crack and smash, resulting in my death. Russell had curled up in a tight ball, putting his paws over his ears.

"Listen, I didn't choose to. In fact, neither did Devon. My parents booked me into a hotel for two nights with Devon so we could go on a honeymoon this weekend. After school on Friday my mum is picking us both up from school and she's dropping us off somewhere near the coast. Please don't go telling everybody. I just had to tell you as I really, really do not want to be doing this." I said, trying to sound desperate. Katie seemed to be taking deep breaths. I could hear her breathing like people who did yoga or whatever.

"I'd happily swap paces with you, my God I wish I was you. What sort of room has your mother booked for you? I'm guessing she booked it for you. Because if it's a room for a couple you're going to have to share a bed with Devon Jones." Katie said. I dropped the phone, then had to scramble to pick it up, as Russell was about to maul it with his slobbery snout.

"Then I'll ask to sleep on the floor." I said. There. Sorted. But Katie tutted, and I could tell she was either smirking or trying to hold in laughter. "What?"

"You know what Devon's like, he's constantly trying to get on your wick and he always succeeds. He seems to enjoy doing it, too. So he's going to take advantage of this. Be warned, he may try and cuddle you. I know you like hugs, and even though every girl wants his, you're probably the only girl on the face of the Earth that doesn't want to be hugged by Devon Jones." Katie said. It was a ghastly thought. Could you imagine being forcibly hugged by Devon Jones? Why was this my fate? What did I do in a previous life to deserve this?

"But he might not. He doesn't look like a person who would give hugs, even if it involves doing it to annoy me." I said. I was serious. I would seriously not believe that Devon would give me hugs and make me sleep in the same bed as him. Katie was just being over dramatic and making ridiculous and uneducated assumptions.

"Fine. But anyway, you're staying away without parents with Devon Jones for two nights. If this gets out to the school, you won't make it to Friday." Katie said.

"Exactly! This is why you can't tell anybody. I'm trusting you with this one." I said, firmly, rolling on to my front. Before Devon had left at the end of dinner, he had made sure to take the journal so he could print out the photos taken tonight and stick them all in. He said he was also going to add the sunflower petals and bring it in to school tomorrow so I could do the writing and maybe help with the patterns and outlining. "Okay, I'm going to bed. It's been a long day." I said, yawning.

"Okay. 'Night, Holland. Don't dream of Devon too much." She said, snickering. It wasn't even that funny. I was about to shoot a snarky reply back, but Katie had already hung up. I reached over and placed my phone down on my bedside cabinet, before flopping back down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I dreamed of sunflowers and cupcakes that night.

______

I would have much rather it had been a normal Thursday with a normal curriculum...but no, that wasn't going to happen. Mrs Kampe had decided that she wanted the year group to complete our first 'lesson' as married couples. Which seriously sucked. And what sucked more was that it had something to do with Physical Education, perhaps the subject I hated the most out of all of them. The only reason I didn't have a beach ball belly was because of genes and the fact I did a lot of walking. I hated running and I hated PE. Any sports that involved a ball or a team I was pretty useless at. If there was a sport for reading or lying down, I would have left school and would have been in the freaking Olympics by now. But no. Obviously a sport had to involve some means of exercise to be entered into the Olympics. And I probably would have cried when I discovered that the gold medal wasn't a chocolate coin.