Lloyd's hoody was extremely soft and comfortable. I know this, because over the course of the week, I'd been wearing it.
Now, to some people, that might be - who am I kidding? It's totally and absolutely odd. But it smells nice, the sleeves are fluffy, and it reached mid-thigh. All in all, it was pretty much the god of hoodies and nobody can convince me otherwise. It would be odd not to wear it.
The rest of my week consisted of sleeping in till late (while wearing Lloyd's hoody), binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine (in Lloyd's hoody), and biting my lips raw in contemplation of whether I texted Lloyd or not (accompanied by his hoody).
I knew that I'd have to sort out a time and place to meet up with Lloyd for the exchange, but just like schoolwork, I procrastinated in contacting the blonde-haired boy. There wasn't even a proper excuse as to why I didn't text him. But then again, isn't that what procrastination is?
In the end, it was Lloyd who made the first move - again. It was Saturday morning when he texted me, but it wasn't until an hour later when I actually woke up and saw it.
I was still groggy and out of it, rubbing my eyes and yawning, when I unlocked my phone and read the text. It took me rereading the message four times before it actually clicked in my head and - holy shit we're meeting in less than forty minutes.
I fell out of bed, before scrambling to my feet and stumbling my way to my closet and selecting jean shorts and a random top.
I scampered down the hall and into the bathroom, sliding the door shut behind me with a foot. Frantically, I grabbed the hem of my pyjama shirt and pulled it upwards, but the neckline got stuck on my low ponytail, causing me to curse and stumble around like a madman. Finally, it popped off and I have a sigh of relief before getting dressed. I shoved a hairbrush through my hair and didn't bother to do anything with it, and with a couple of spray of deodorant, I was ready... ish.
I raced my way back to my bedroom, grabbing my phone and Lloyd's hoody (that I had washed the night before), shoving the device in my back pocket and flinging the hoody over my shoulder.
"Himumloveyoubye!" I rushed as I crashed into the kitchen and made my mother spill her coffee in fright. She sent me a glare, but I was already out the door and shoving on my slip-ons.
In retrospect, although slip-on shoes are extremely easy and fast to put on, they're also exceedingly difficult to run in. So as I raced my way to the cafe where Lloyd wanted to meet, I was also trying my damned hardest to not trip and injure myself. That would be embarrassing.
For the majority of my running I spent scuffing my shoes every other step. I feared them falling off mid-run. I was just glad that summer decided to actually be summer and that it wasn't pouring down with rain, because that would've been an absolute travesty.
I skidded to a stop just a block away from the cafe, wiping my forehead from beads of sweat and fluffing up my hair. I spent at least two minutes trying to regain my breath, before pulling out my phone when it alerted me of a text.
I'm in the booth by the window.
My heart stuttered as I glanced up and spotted a head of blonde by the window. It was too far to actually see his face, but I was fairly certain that it was Lloyd.
I tried to steady my breathing, which only did work a little. Time was ticking on. Either I sort my shit out here and now, or I don't, and Lloyd would think... I don't know what he would think. Probably negative things about my truancy. Maybe.
With a final deep inhale, I tried to look at least a little sane before grabbing the hoody from my shoulders and holding it in my arms. I was stalling. Definitely stalling. Absolutely stalling. Without a doubt stalling-
