Lock In || Magcon

12

Fact of the day: I'm starting school in a week and I'm crying.

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“I don’t get it,” Stacey said as we walked towards my house. “Why didn’t you walk home with him?” she asked referring to the day before with Dan.

“I didn’t feel comfortable,” I mumbled. “It felt weird being around him after what Brice said to me,”

“I still don’t know who you believe,” she said as walked up my drive. I opened my front door and dropped my bag inside.

“I’ll tell you when I find out,” I said before going next door and picking up Rebel. I went into the house and set Rebel down and closed the door behind me. I went over to set out Rebels food and change his water when Stacey started squealing.

“Oh my god, can I do it? Pretty please,”

“Do what,” I mumbled, putting a hand to my ear because she was so loud.

“Put out the dog food and do the dog stuff!” she said, jumping up and down.

“Umm, yeah, I guess, you have to put the rest of the can into the bowl and replace his water with fresh water,” I said handing her the can and dog spoon and pointing to the bowl.

“Yay!” she said pouring the food into the bowl. “I’m trying to prove to my mum that I’m responsible enough to get my own dog, she doesn’t want me to have one because she thinks I won’t look after it,”

“I wouldn’t blame her,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“What?”

Stacey finished putting out the dog food before we both went upstairs and into my messy room, the bags of clothes still in one corner, an open luggage with clothes all over it in the other, and clothes and school stuff all over the floor.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about this,” I mumbled, gesturing to my room.

“What’s wrong with it, your rooms always like this,” Stacey pointed out.

“Yeah,”

“So, have you picked out what you want to take?” Stacey asked dropping her bag down next my suitcase and then sitting on my bed.

“No, not really,” I said, going over to all of the shopping bags left in the corner of my room from Saturday. “I still haven’t unpacked this stuff,”

“Yeah, come on bring them here,” she said, sitting up on the bed and crossing her legs. I picked up the seven or eight designer shopping bags and put them onto the bed.

“You unpack that stuff, let me change,” I said, pointing to the bags. I opened my drawers and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and white t-shirt. I changed into the clothes I got out and took my uniform downstairs and into the laundry room.

I went back upstairs and saw Stacey trying to match up clothes to make various outfits, looking at the different clothes I had realised that there were no sweatpants.  “Where are the sweat pants?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Stacey asked, looking at me, holding up a pair of shorts from Hollister.

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ There’re no sweatpants.” I said gesturing to the clothes.