Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind - Treebros

Chapter 25: "Warm Me, Thaw Me"

Wednesday , February 6th

Unusually bright light sears my eyes when I wake up, and I draw my blanket closer around me, trying to keep out the cold that's settling into my bones.

I slowly extend my hand past my fortress of warmth to stop my alarm, and pull my phone close enough to see with my still-blurry-from-sleep vision.

Connor<3: hellloo

Connor<3: HELLLLOOOO?

Connor<3: why do you hate me

Me: Why are you awake at 2am?

I actually fell asleep like 20 minutes before he texted me. I had been working on a project about neurotransmitters for AP Psych, but couldn't focus long enough to get much done.

Connor<3: no reason

Connor<3: anyway can i please come over my parents are driving me insane

Me: There is the small matter of school.

Connor<3: it's cancelled, snows blocking the roads

I look outside the window and see bright sun reflecting off a blanket of snow covering the world. And tracks where Mom had decided to walk to work anyway, which would take at least 30 minutes. Of course.

Me: Then how are you going to come over?

Connor<3: don't worry about it

Me: How soon can you be here?

Connor<3: like 20 minutes

That should give me enough time to shower and look at least semi-presentable. But not like I'm trying too hard. And not sloppy. The perfect medium of warm clothes but not gross.

Me: Sounds good.

I give myself a few more minutes to scroll on my phone, and see a message from Mom detailing everything I've already figured out.

I just finish drying my hair when I hear the doorbell ring. I speed walk down the stairs, a little curious as to how Connor got here.

The second I open the door, something cold and wet explodes against my face and the front of my shirt. I stumble back, wiping snow out of my eyes.

"Holy shit! Connor!" I yelp, feeling the wetness quickly sink into my shirt and goosebumps prickle my skin.

"So I take it your mom's not home?" Connor grins, wearing only a sweatshirt and jeans. Idiot. He's gonna catch a cold.

"Come on, before I lock you out in the snow," I grumble, grabbing his hand to drag inside when I realize he's already using it to hold a skateboard.

"I didn't know you skateboarded," I say, closing the door behind us and leading him to the kitchen. Connor leaves the board upside down in front of the entry way, before following me.

"Yeah, I haven't in a while, but when I was an edgy eighth grader I wanted to be cool which clearly didn't work," he explains.