My Fudged Up World

[ t w o ]

I'm woken to the sound of a dog barking loudly outside my window. I glance to the clock on my bedside table, which says its just past eight. 

I groan and roll over, pulling my pillow over my head. "Stupid neighbors dog." 

That's when I hear a cat hissing. My eyes dart open. I bolt up in bed and look around me. Frederick is no where to be seen. 

Pulling myself to the window, I see that the neighbor's Golden Retriever has found a way into our garden and is barking excitedly at Fred, who stands, back arched, on the small wall that separates our garden from the beach. 

I rush across the room, pull on an oversized hoodie and stumble into my sneakers, all the while muttering, "Crap, crap, crap, crappity, crap,"

Frederick had a history of hurting dogs that he got too annoyed with. I did not have money for the veterinary bills. 

I half run, half jump down the stars and run outside. Frederick crazily hisses at the dog and I run over. "Shush, Fred, it's okay. It's okay." I state in a sickly sweet voice. 

As soon as I get close to them, I pull the Golden Retriever away by its collar. It starts licking my hand immediately, happily letting me lead it away.

Frederick hisses at me before jumping off the wall and quickly stalking away. I roll my eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Don't get your knickers in a knot, you stupid cat." Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Fred. I just don't really like him. And the feeling is mutual. But he endures me because I feed him and I endure him because he sits on my face sometimes when I'm feeling lonely. 

I pet Spots (Yes, it's a Golden Retriever, but that's what it's collar says. I'm not even going to ask.) absentmindedly as I lead it around the house and towards the neighbors front door. I had always wanted a dog but the year I'd asked my parents for a puppy for my birthday, they had gotten me a kitten. I guess they figured that the two couldn't be that different and I couldn't complain because of the happy looks on their faces. But the moment they turned away, Fred had hissed at me and I'd stuck my tongue out at him. Hence the beginning of our very loving relationship. 

I knock on the neighbors door, secretly hoping they're not home.  

There's some commotion and a shout of "I'll get it!" and the door opens. 

A teenage guy, around my age, stands in the door. 

A very good looking guy, I might add. He's tall, with large shoulders, wet blonde hair and this thin lip ring on his perfectly shaped bottom lip that gives him a sort of edgy quality. His damp shirt sort of clings to his built body, which is hard to ignore, but it's not that that makes me stare. It's his eyes, which are this sort of bright blue color and just strikingly beautiful, for lack of a better description. 

Never before have I felt so bleh. Even though he's also wearing sweatpants, mine are hugely baggy and misshaped, and add that to my greasy hair in a messy top knot and my huge hoodie, I'm pretty sure I look like a homeless person. 

He raises an eyebrow at me. 

"Uhh..." I start, unsure what to say.

"I'm sorry, but we don't give donations to hobos." He states, smirking as he wipes his hands on the dishtowel that draped over his shoulder. 

Embarrassment fills me and I start to blush, which only makes me angry. I snap out of my daze and step forward, thrusting Spot inside by its collar. "Listen, Jerkface, it's not my fault that your dog decided to break into my garden and try kill my cat, waking me from my jet-lagged beauty sleep at crazy o'clock. Maybe you should learn to--"