This Girl

Chapter 30: Don't make fun of Yoda

Alex's Point of View:

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Shut up," I mutter and hit the snooze button on my alarm clock, my head still in my pillow. I groan and try to get back to sleep. Why the hell is my alarm clock on anyway, it's a Saturday.

Felecia.

She gets on my nerves sometimes, the idiotic imbecile of a twelve-year-old girl.

Still groaning, I run a hand through my messy hair and sit up, throwing my covers off my body. I can never get back to sleep after I've woken up, no matter how hard I try, my body just won't allow it. I look over at the time beeping on my alarm clock and mentally groan when I see the time. 7:30. Seven freaking thirty. I usually sleep in until nine or ten on weekends, but since my stupid sister set my alarm clock two and a half hours earlier, I'm waking up at seven thirty. Felecia needs a serious talking to, I think as I walk over to my dresser and throw on a grey shirt before grabbing my phone and plopping back down onto my bed.

I look over at my window and see that Nat's awake as well. Her curtains are open wide and her room is lit by the lamp sitting on her bedside table. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and her eyes are glued to a book. She's sitting cross legged on her bed, and doesn't notice me looking.

Nat doesn't notice a lot of this.

She doesn't notice all the guys checking her out as she walks through the halls. She doesn't notice how every guy's head turns to her when she laughs. She doesn't notice how other girls - even the barbie doll, popular girls - are completely, whole-heartedly envious of her. She doesn't notice that everyone in the grade knows her name. She doesn't notice how she looks like a supernatural goddess. She doesn't notice how I want to be with her every single second of every single day. She doesn't notice how I hold her hand or swing an arm around her shoulder just to touch her. She doesn't notice – no matter how many times her friends try to tell her – how bad I have it for her.

As much as I want to rest my head in my hand and stare at the beautiful girl next door like a teenage girl laying on her bed admiring a Harry Styles poster, I can't. That'd just be weird. Although, she probably wouldn't notice, so I take another look at her before I get up off my bed to get changed.

She's still sitting in the same position when I come out of the shower and up from breakfast. Apart from occasionally turning the page, she stays still, absorbed in the book and oblivious to me looking at her.

A strand of golden-brown hair falls across her face and she uses one of her long, delicate fingers to push it back behind her ear. Her hair is one of the many beautiful things about her that I can't seem to figure out. Its brown at the top and then changes into blonde, making it golden at the ends, kind of like a natural Ombre colour.

I remember last Friday night, a week and a day ago now, when I held her, smelling her hair like a crazy maniac. I can't help it. No one can. I know its crazy, but I've always liked the smell of hand sanitizers, they always fill the room with a scent that smells absolutely amazing. Natalie doesn't smell like hand sanitizer, but her hair, it might be her shampoo, always smell like berries similar to a hand sanitizer Felecia once used that smelt really good when she was younger, and I was around thirteen. I stole some for myself just so that I could smell it all day long. Natalie smells even better than that.

I plop back onto my bed, grabbing my phone and pretending to be absorbed in candy crush while actually sneaking glimpses at her over the top of my phone. I am such a creepy stalker.