First Light

11 skateboarding

Saturday 16th of October 2021

Marlo:

The light seeping in my room by the tiny crack in between the curtains is thin, pale, the light of morning.

I don't even bother checking the time as I roll over, closing my eyes again as I know there's no way I'm getting up right now. A couple seconds pass before I hear the buzz of - I'm not entirely sure - but I'm certain that whatever it is is what woke me up in the first place.

I grumble as it continues, pulling the pillow over my head so my face is pressed against the mattress. A poor attempt to block out the weird buzzing sound that keeps stopping and starting. A couple more seconds pass before I give up, pushing myself off of the bed to go and find whatever the fuck it is.

Standing upright has alerted my body to last night's alcohol and my head pounds slightly with each step I take towards the kitchen. Pushing open the door requires a bit more effort than usual thanks to my drowsiness.

My eyes immediately find the source - Becca. She's standing with her back facing me.

"What the fuck is that sound?"

My voice startles her, and she turns round, holding a blender. Her eyes drop down and widen in shock, her face tinging red, and it's only after a second that I realise I've walked in shirtless.

Fuck's sake.

I cross my arms over my chest like that'll do much.

"Oh sorry, I didn't realise it was that loud," She says, her eyes glancing to my upper body once again.

I rub my eyes. "Yeah, you fucking woke me up."

She gives me a sheepish look. "Sorry, Marlo."

I grumble in response, turning to leave.

"Did you want some?"

I turn slightly. "Of what?"

She shakes the blender's contents slightly. "Smoothie? There's enough in here for you if you want."

"No, I'm good." I begin walking back to the kitchen door before she speaks again.

"Hey, did I do anything last night? Like, anything weird or whatever."

I sigh. "Don't think so, no."

She doesn't say anything, so I turn towards her once more. "Anything else?"

She shakes her head, looking me up and down again, so I turn and head back to my room, face planting into my pillow.

After what seems like barely 5 minutes, I'm awoken again by persistent knocking, which I try to ignore, only to realise it's coming from my own door, not the flat's.

I open it with more force than intended, and the edge hits the wall loudly. "What now?"

It's Jonah, and he seems completely unfazed by my annoyance. "Bro. It's 2pm."

I rub my face, my hand knocking against my nose ring, and look at him blankly. "So?"

"Why the fuck are you still in bed?" He pushes past me into my room without so much as an apology, and takes a seat in the desk chair, spinning to face me.

"Because I'm fucking tired. Why aren't you tired?" I follow him, sitting back down on my bed, the headrest cold against my skin.

He laughs, shaking his head. "You're weak. Always been weak."

He's referring to the countless times I've slept in since I've known him - and we've been friends since we were 5. He's basically my brother.