Dear Dakota | Academic Rivalry Story

Twelve | Strawberry's & Reese's

D A K O T A R E I D

I distinctly remember before falling asleep seeing Nyla on her side, with her back to me.

I also remember turning around on my side and snoozing off with my back to her.

Waking up with her molded to my side with my arms around her and my head resting on top of hers was the last way I thought I would wake up this morning. I can't move either. Nyla's arm is draped over my abdomen and her breathing is at a constant rhythmic pace that could be considered a lullaby to those around her.

My head barely lifts to look at her digital clock.

7:50 am.

I rest my head back on the pillow, not daring to move my arms from around her. Our phones are downstairs in her living room, dead from the world.

School gave me a horrible habit of waking up early on the weekends. I can't remember the last time I woke up around 10 am, apart from summer break. I try to close my eyes and go back to sleep but I can't seem to.

The sun has risen and is shining brightly through her thin white flowy curtains. I take a random blanket that is folded next to me and cover my eyes with it. I think I may be falling back asleep until Nyla adjusters in her sleep. Her head is now buried in the area in between my serratus and upper arm. Odd place to find a pillow but oh well.

She has no idea how much I am going to make fun of her when she wakes up and sees how she is practically sprawled out on me. Not to mention she is a stomach sleeper too meaning her leg is completely draped over mine.

I take her pink blanket off my eyes and take a good look at her calm face. Of course, she has been pretty since she was little. Why else were all the guys looking at her the first week she came back? Her hair could go on for days. It is in its gorgeous curls the ones that kind of remind me of my own, but I guess her's is a bit better. Sorry ego got in the way with that one.

Her lips are in a pout. Imagine if she is dreaming about me taking all her strawberry-scented things. I would laugh. My eyes spot the row of pink bottles on her desk. She has the whole set. Lotions, perfumes, hand creams, and even a smaller perfume.

On that same desk is a stack of folders that I am assuming is all the homework she has to do this weekend. Our teachers have been ruthless on us this week. They are giving us two an abnormally greater amount than they usually would and that is probably the cause of my afterschool headaches.

My eyes leave her desk and are scoping out her entire room from the comfort of her bed. She has a few pictures hanging on the wall, not many, but a few. I see one picture in particular that became a tradition for us.

Us, as in the quartet. Every first day of school since we were in Kindergarten our parents would take the annual "First day of school picture" of us. It is hilarious how well you can see all of our personalities by just stealing a glance at the picture.

We have me, just smiling till my eyes shut. Nyla, along with Delaney have their hands on their hips being their normal sassy selves. Atlas is sitting on the ground holding up two thumbs up with that horrid first day of first-grade sign in his lap.

We leveled up from the signs, thank God cause those were the most cringe things in the world.

I didn't realize my hand was subconsciously raking through her hair until I caught myself doing it.

Is she cold? I think that to myself when I see her arms gain goosebumps from the cold air from the vent above is hitting her arm. I put her sleeve down, pulling the comforter up more.