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 THIRTY ONE
blindspot
i struggled to recuperate after a dream like that, where i feel like i was in an alternate universe or a fluid plane of existence that is constantly traveling through different ones. grounding back into this one and moving my now-normal fingers was disorienting to say the least. i rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the room.
as i brushed my teeth, i went through the five stages of grief. i experienced this every time i had a dream as day-altering as this one. no one should expect me to go back to normal life after that abnormality.
mom walked in just in time to not get thrown off the ground from the humongous knot of hair sitting on my head. it took me five minutes to brush out the damn thing that looked like a two year old tried to braid it. i must have been wrestling with myself all night.
"good morning-- almost noon! you haven't slept this long since you were in the womb," said mom.
"the declaration of independence really does that to ya." i gave her a hug, appreciating the fact that she was herself and not one of the old men that signed it.
"speaking of freedom...," she smiled, waiting for me to catch on.
"what do you mean?"
"well the declaration... gave us freedom--"
"no! what are you hinting at, mom," i urged.
"it's saturday!" she cheered. "you're not grounded anymore!"
"oh, yeah! i forgot about that. and my phone," i said. "i've been living like i could be around to sign the declaration without it. kind of nice, honestly."
"please take it back, y/n. the constant vibrations of the notifications were very annoying when i was trying to sleep last night."
"right, so it's in your room?" i said hurriedly.
she nodded and i was out the door. then she called down the hallway, "what happened to you enjoying the electronic celibacy?"
the answer to that was that if i was getting so many notifications, that meant they were either from mrs fennel tormenting the class from her evil, gothic castle in the tropics of aruba, or from my favorite people. obviously, they couldn't be from jordyn. and i would be surprised if walker texted more than two words at a time. i would've bet good money that maeve was reaching out. she'd always been good with remembering dates she looked forward to, this one being when we could legally hang out with each other. and i had a lot to tell her.
when i tapped the phone's screen, i was met with a plethora of banners, the latest from five minutes ago.
(read it from bottom up like a notification center)
