Waking up peacefully on a Saturday morning is one of the best things had in a while; no more truck sounds, no loud music from the old neighbors & no rumbling attention perverts driving their racing cars in the middle of the night.
To think about how peacefully and amazingly I've been dying to have a quiet sleep for some at ease that I stretched my arms to get up, took a steaming hot shower, put on my skinny black jeans by essentially attaching the metal chain-like belt around my waist along with a long t-shirt, black ripping hole jeans, combat boots, black pearl earrings (A/N: no piercing my ears, bc it'll get your skin infected), black bead bracelet on my right wrist, a braided choky with an amethyst crystal necklace as it turns darker by the minute which I already think it's my emotion being boiling up in one stone (pretty neat, no?) & lastly, my heirloom silver square on it has an 'A' initial bracelet.
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Staring at myself, I put on a bit of black lipstick while checking out my black mini backpack: "Hm, not bad. Good thing I don't get scolded by my own mom from my dimension about my style choice." I said to myself after painting my nails in black when I spotted Mojo panting in front of my room. A chuckle escaped my lips, and I carried him to Sam's room. Placed it on top of his chairs and watched like a hawk until I noticed his room was a mess; I groaned quietly and rolled my eyes before starting my clean-up routine in his room by organizing his stuff:
"Alright, Mojo," he continues to mumble by typing on his computer, "I got the car. Now I need the girl. I need money to take out the girl, which is what I need. Also, Amelia is known to be... how do I put it? Oh, right, that means she is the excellence to my list-plan of life." After a moment of truth about his bidding, eBay answered, Zero bids.
"Great, I'm broke." Sam mumbled, "Y'know, mumbling isn't very gentleman-like, so I suggest you try not to overreact about impressing someone like Mikaela TOO much & just help me clean up your room, which stinks like a scrapyard." The minute I spoke out of nowhere, Sam's expression was priceless, and he blushed in embarrassment before falling over the floor, Rolling his eyes, scolding me: "Can I have privacy than being spied on by you?"
Shrugging at his question, I continued organizing his books, took his secret treasure chest out of its hiding spot, and began wiping the dust from inside and out.
Sam & I hear Mojo sniff a small 'achoo'; we chuckle at this as I pat him on the head, "C'mon mojo, you pain kills?" Mojo (chihuahua) growls at me for mentioning the pills for his health because of the vets that were 'helpful' for him, I can already tell that for some unknown reasons he doesn't get onto a growling state with me, just a small whimper. After cleaning and organizing the place, we came downstairs, ready to ride to the Lake party scene.
However, Mr. and Ms. Witwicky began to argue with their son for a second and reminded them not to step on the family grass, only the path he's creating right now. A few minutes later, Sam brought his best friend Miles, who sat beside him as we drove off to the Lake Party.
