Catch Me

||August 2nd||

I woke up to the smell of you. I automatically rubbed my face against the soft and worn material of your sweater before I realized what I'm doing. Then I realized I was smothering my face onto the sweater of a stranger. A boy stranger. Shit, a cute stranger. Within minutes of that realization my phone blared Kyle's ringtone.

"Hey, babe," he said and I yawned. I pulled the phone away from my ear and groaned when I noted the time. Usually he calls at like seven or eight and lets me sleep in somewhat.

"What the hell are you doing at six thir... five thirty in the morning, Kyle?"

"I went for a run," he stated, as though all normal people are up at the ass crack of dawn to run.

"And you thought to call me because?" The line was silent until I heard a female voice in the background. Kyle hushed her.

"Well, I, uh, I been thinking maybe, maybe," he stuttered and I rolled my eyes.

"You think maybe this isn't going to work out." Silence. This time, I hear him shuffle out of his room. He must think I'm stupid.

"Wait, what? No, I wasn't gonna say that. I was thinking maybe you could move in with me when you get back? My parents got a summer place out in California and since you're going to college there I was thinking we could live there during the year and maybe-" I stopped him.

"No, no. Kyle, this is what I want. I want you to go back to the whore that's in your bed and ask her okay? Maybe she'll live with you because this isn't working out."

"Wait, Lily, I love you. I wanna be with you. I want-" I hung up before he finished his sentence. Stupid ass, I grumble to myself as I got out of bed, why would I want to live with you. I tugged on some sweatpants and pulled my hair up into a ponytail. I grabbed my pencil case and sketchbook and trudged sleepily down the stairs. I slipped out the back and walked down to our small pavilion that looks out onto the small lake. I looked up at the sky and squinted at the brightly shining sun. After placing a pencil between my teeth I opened my sketchbook and began to carve the lines of your face into the paper. About ten minutes later the back door opened.

"Lillian Jane Eventhall," screamed mom, "get your ass in here! Don't think I didn't hear you sneak out." Then, the door crash closed. I slammed my sketchbook and marched up the hill to the house. I swung the door open and stepped inside. Immediately my nose was insulted by the smell of burnt toast, failed scrambled eggs, and greasy bacon. I walked into the dining room and looked around at each one of my groggy family members. Not doubting for a second mom woke them up.

"What is that smell?" I asked.

"That would be Craig's cooking," Aspen said after yawning loudly.

"Hey, normally I don't cook. Kelly does," Craig admitted.

"I'm sure she does," I mumbled under my breath. Just a year ago Kelly and my brother got married here. Too bad this year Kelly couldn't be here. She was going backpacking through Europe with her photography class. Let's just say I'm not exactly fond of Kelly.

"What was that, Lillian?" Mom questioned, a pissy look on her face.

"I think I'm going to make my own breakfast." I said, louder.

"Craig already made you a plate." She replied smugly. Yeah, like I'm gonna eat that shit.

"It has meat in it."

"Yes,"

"Well, then, I'm making my own." Her eyes narrow in on me.

"Don't you speak to me in that tone of voice, young lady." Greg, mom's new boy toy of a husband, stumbled out just at the right moment and mom plastered a smile on her face, "Morning, hon."