in which you, an aspiring filmmaker,
find the perfect actor for your breakout short film.
casting is difficult for the main love interest,
but once a certain blue-eyed boy comes into your life, you know he's the one...
maybe in more ways than yo...
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
seeing red
"get out of bed! you're going to be late," shouted mom. she flipped the light switch and unbearable brightness poured into my eyes like a flood of rocky salt water. i groaned and threw my covers off of me like a princess would her dress' skirt.
i always found it so unfair how the sun never waited for me to wake up as well. it just shows up everyday and expects me to be as vivacious as it. but everyday i'm still holding onto night with my little physical energy and keeping my eyes shut. so usually for around five minutes, i blindly brush my teeth and such until my eyes have caught up with the hour.
i entered the bathroom with my fuzzy socks almost caressing the ground. i obviously didn't see her, but i also didn't hear mom walk in after me. i was jolted awake and seeing as she asked me, "hey, why do you have that bandage on your hand?"
"oh, this? i fell last week, that's all." i had forgotten about the deep scrape from jordyn's roof.
"i'm sure it's healed by now." mom began to brush her teeth. through the suds, i'm pretty sure she said, "and washing your hands must feel icky."
that was true, but the tan sheet around it was probably the tenth i had applied since walker did the first. i still got butterflies thinking about that moment after the staring contest, but i still couldn't tell if that fluttering is of excitement or anxiety. words from that talk with maeve from nights prior were still the nectar that they fed off of. but i keep reminding myself: i can't stop the butterflies in my stomach. once they sprout from their cocoon, they can't reenter it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
i didn't end up coming to school tardily. i actually did my morning routine in record time, only listening to two and a half songs on my getting ready playlist. so as mom turned into the front parking lot, i slipped in my airpods and pressed play again. listening to music as a soundtrack to life always managed to make me feel like i was in a movie.
another thing that made me feel like i was in a movie was how walker had been waiting for me -- or i liked to think he had -- as i walked into mrs fennel's classroom every morning. he would sit there with his arms crossed and fail to take his eyes off of me as i approached our seat in the back of class.
"good morning, walker," i greeted him, placing down my bag.
"good morning, y/n. i have something for you."
"what is it?"
he fiddled with the zipper on his bag, making me wait longer to know whatever he was about to give me. finally, he revealed a red gatorade bottle. my cheeks began to meet the color of it. "you shouldn't have," i cooed. how sentimental?
