Chapter 2
Beep beep! Beep beep!
I groan at the shrill sound of my alarm and reach over to my bedside table, sliding my finger across my phones screen to shut it off. Lifting my head up and resting on my elbows I see that my room is still completely dark. I love daylight savings. As I lay my head back down with the intention of getting an extra ten minutes of sleep, I hear a knock on my door.
“Go away.”
“Mommy said to get up.” Sam says loudly, walking into my room with Stefan in tow.
“I am up.” I grumble.
“No your not.” Stefan says walking to the side of my bed and pulling off my comforter.
“Hey!” I shout sitting up and reaching for him but he was too fast for me.
They squeal, running out of my room, and Sam slams my door shut as he shouts, “Hurry up slow poke!”
“Ugh.” I growl as I collect my comforter from the floor and throw it over my bed.
What a lovely way to start my Monday, I think, walking out of my bedroom and going into my bathroom on the adjacent wall.
I wash my face, rinsing it with cool water to wake me up, and begin brushing my teeth. I rest my hip against the side of the sink and do a mental recap of my weekend. I only really focus on one night in particular however; Sam’s birthday party, the day I met Mateo.
I didn’t call or text him. I’d had no idea what to say and I still don’t. He probably doesn’t remember me anyway, or maybe he doesn’t even really care. He could give his number out to people all of the time for all I know. His message in the note about the pizza could’ve been an empty promise as well, not everyone is true to his or her word you know… I shake my head of my thoughts and spit into the sink then rinse out my mouth, drying it afterwards and placing my toothbrush back into its holder.
Making my way to the kitchen, I see my brothers sitting at the island eating toaster waffles as my mom cuts up some strawberries and sets them on their plates. Walking over to the fridge I notice an icing packet on the counter and turn towards my brothers with a scowl, “Sam would you throw away your stupid trash please?”
He widens his eyes and drops his jaw -- dumbfounded, “It wasn’t me!”
“It’s always you Sam,” Stefan deadpans. “There’s no point lying about it.”
“Yeah I mean you’re the only one in the house who constantly leaves trash sitting around.” I say pulling the bread from the fridge and heading over to a cupboard on the opposite side of the island, grabbing nutella and a banana to make a sandwich.
YOU ARE READING
A Year In the Making
Ficção AdolescenteSienna McNabb has a lot on her plate - watching over her brother and sister, trying to excel in school so that she can attend her dream University, and her mother's remission. The last thing she has on her mind is romance, besides that of the food...
