lovely - Leonardo DiCaprio

27

Blinded by the bright sunlight coming from the window, I couldn't help but to be awoken. Seeing a tinge of the sight-depriving yellow, I opened my eyes slowly, and walked over the window to close the blinds.

"Ouch," was all I could begin to say, I stumbled into the side of my bed, as I look down at my body, I was still wearing the same clothing I had last night.

"Giselle!" shouts mother, as I let a filled groan.

Slowly walking down the stairs, my mind was pervaded with what has transpired last night. I was lost with all my thoughts, but I was interrupted by my mom's voice once again.

She snaps her fingers, "Hey."

"Huh?"

She pointed to the prepared food within the tray using her eyes, as I finally got out of my wide array of thoughts.

"Aren't you hot? Turtleneck and a coat, Erin?" she continues, while I carefully carry the tray as I walk towards the dining room.

"Here you go, Brian, Catalina."

Sipping his coffee, Mr. DiCaprio calls, "Ah. I see you finally learned to call us by our first names."

"She's a polite one, honey, that's why," Mrs. DiCaprio adds, as I smiled gently.

Walking towards the couch, I took a silent sigh.

"We don't have any blueberry," I said.

"It's still pancake though. Thanks, Lottie."

"How did things go with your dad?" he adds, munching on the pancakes I gave him.

My eyes widened a bit, remembering what my dad and I have talked about.

"Uh—Nothing. Well, I mean — Not exactly nothing, per se.  I was just – It was uh, it was great."

With an utter confused expression plastered on his face, he placed down the fork and calls, "Oh...kay."

"School," I muttered.

"What?"

"I'm gonna go get ready for school."

come on, Morris, get it together. 

I vowed myself that I will do my utmost best to not dwell on the things that I have learned, like being in love with that dumbass. I took a sigh, "It's gonna be okay."

I was holding my bag with both of my hands, as I curl my eyebrows seeing him by the front yard. 

"What are you doing here, Jayson?"

He was leaning on his motorcycle, holding a helmet, while the other one is on the seat. 

"I'm here to pick you up, what do you mean?"

Blinking a few times, I stammered, "I don't—Um, what?"

"Come on, Mr. Porter sure gets his dander up when someone is late at his class."

Still being confused, I breathed, "H-How do you know my schedule?"

He sat on the vehicle, as he puts his helmet, he raises the other. 

"You coming or not?"

"Uh, I—I gues–"

"Great!"

•

It was okay, we didn't exactly talked that much since of course, he was driving. But I still do not understand why he would take me to school out of the blue, especially the day after his confession. Walking past through filled halls, I was greeted by a panting DiCaprio.