Together just you & me.

Chapter 10 - All American Rejects.

I'm half woken up and half out of my own skin by the sound of All American Rejects - Dirty Little Secret blasting through the household from my stereo. Not to mention I'm being blinded by the light  being turned on and off continuously in my bedroom.

It's just all too much to take in at 7AM!

"What the fuuuh?" I shout.

I sit up and squint - as my eyes haven't focused yet as I'm still half-asleep - to see my brother standing beside my bed, staring down at me, looking amused. "Well I had to wake you up somehow?" he says, finally leaving the lightswitch alone.

I groan and pull the covers over my head, but only seconds later they're pulled off me again by Michael.

"Nooooo," I moan, crawling to the end of my bed to retreive my warm, fluffy, cosy covers.

"Get up!" he says, tugging the covers from me.

Recap: it's 7AM and I'm having a tug-of-war fight with my brother over my bed covers.

I decide to give up because it's too early and so I'm just too weak.

I slump back down on my bed and put my pillow over my head.

Yeah, I'm definitely not a morning person.

Michael lifts the pillow up slightly so he can see me, and says, "Dad told me to wake you up so if you don't get up now, I'm getting the bucket."

NO, NOT THE BUCKET OF FREEZING COLD WATER. NO.

 "I'm up!" I say, making the extra effort by actually getting out of bed and trudging over to my wardrobe.

"Good girl," he says, patting my messy mop of hair like I'm a little girl.

This kind of relationship between us will never change. Only when we argue, which isn't very often as we're normally doing our own things, but if so, it's a whole new situation.

I took a shower last night so I'm not bothered to take another one this morning, besides it'll only just make me fall asleep again. I pull a brush through my hair, brush my teeth and get dressed. I put on black leggings, a light blue t-shirt, my white converse my dad got me for my birthday, Jason's grey hoodie and I put on a gold necklace my mum got for me when I was 9. 

I make my way downstairs for breakfast, but there's only my dad sat alone at the table in the kitchen. Sara and Michael must've left already. Sara's probably still pissed about the other day...

"Morning dad," I say, planting a kiss on my dad's cheek.

"Good morning princess," he says, looking up from behind his thick glasses.

"You OK?" he asks, putting down his newspaper.

"Yes thanks," I say, opening the fridge. "has Sara left already?" I ask.

"Yes, she had to leave early this morning."

No dad, she's just pissed with me.

"Oh right,"

I get some milk and orange juice out of the fridge, some cereal from the cupboard, a spoon from the drawer, pour the cereal out in a bowl, pour some juice in a glass and sit down at the table with my dad.

"Lizzy," dad starts, looking at me seriously. "Sara tells me you've made a new friend. A boy, she said,"

Ugh. She can't just keep her mouth shut, can she?

I nod casually. "Yeah, he's new," I say, spooning some cereal in my mouth and chewing as slow as possible.

"That's good," he says, nodding. "Maybe you should bring him over one day."

I nearly choke on my cereal, but I don't make a big thing out of it.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe," I say, not pushing the matter.

"Yes, maybe that's not such a good idea..." he says.

The rest of the cereal-eating-and-orange-drinking-and-avoiding-talking-about-new-boy-with-dad was fine. We touched on normal everyday subjects; school, homework, exams, teachers, what I'm up to next weekend, how Jessy is, what books I'm reading, the norm.

I finish the last of my cereal, wash it down with the last of my orange juice and then clean them up in the sink before getting my schoolbag, saying goodbye to dad and making my way to school.

                                                  * * *

After the long, hard, wet and cold tread to school, I head straight to the restrooms. It's an even-block day, so I have periods 2, 4, 6, and 8: I've never been so happy to miss first-period PE. The warning bell hasn't rung yet, but I want to arrive more or less early to compose myself. Once I'm in front of the mirror, I get my brush out and pull it through my hair again as it had managed to tangle up again in the wind. I get my little makeup kit out from my bag and apply a little lip gloss and some mascara. There's nothing I can do to change the redness of my cheeks from the gustily wind and rain, but I'm hoping it will go soon. 

Ugh, why couldn't Sara have just waited for me?

After I'm done in the restroom, I make my way to the library. I sit at the back of the library and retrieve my English-to-Spanish dictionary and textbook and begin writing my essay about famous Spanish culture and its traditions. Like I have a clue! Mrs. Martinez doesn't even live in Spain anyway so how could she even know?

I don't hear him approach. Then, without warning, he's across from me, leaning on the table, eyes fixed on me.

"Hey."

Once again, I forget how to breathe.

Today he's wearing different shoes. Even more amazing than yesterday; white hightops with gold studs and black laces, blue jeans, a white t-shirt under a red Letterman jacket and Raptors snapback. 

Inhale, exhale. Simple, Lizzy.

I'm so glad I'm sitting because I'm sure I would've toppled over just at the sight of him.

"Hi." I manage.

"Good day so far?" he asks.

"I had to walk to school in the rain,"

"Oh..." Jason says. "You should've called me, I would've picked up." 

Ha. Like that's gonna happen...

"I don't have your number?" I say, more like a question.

"We can change that," he says back in an intimate whisper, before he's hushed by the librarian, Ms. Mason.

"Lizzy Ellis and Jason Drew, this is your final waning. No talking!"

Warmth washes over me at the sound of his name next to mine, and as he searches through his crowded bag for schoolwork, I notice I hadn't heard his surname before. I breathe it, so softly that I can barely hear it myself.

"Drew."

We can't speak for the rest of the forty five-minute period, but his presence makes me feel better. It allows me to forget the frenzied morning and, more importantly, Alexa.

Halfway through the period, my fingers accidently brush Jason's across the table. It feels like someone shot adrenaline directly into my heart; I inhale sharply and quickly move my hand to my lap. Jason glances up at me and smiles, which makes me blush and look away. I hear him chuckle a little under his breath and then turn a page of his Chemistry book.

He's frowning at the book, looking as though he's trying to make sense of it. 

"Need help?" I whisper.

He looks up from his book and shakes his head, whispering, "No, I'm OK thanks,"

I nod and get back to reading Pride and Prejudice.

Aware that I could get into much deeper trouble as before; all I want to do right now is ditch class and spend the rest of the day getting to know him more. But instead, I sit, grabbing glimpses of him every so often, and try my best to act normal.

Lizzy? Normal? Ha.