365 Days

199

199

It has been a few weeks since Alex and I returned from Tasmania, the whole time of which I have spent worrying. Worrying about Alex and what he's not telling me. Worrying about school and our final exams that are coming up at the start of December. We have two and a half months left. I'm worrying about Olive's problem of Ryan still not asking her out and I'm worrying about myself. It's under 200 days to go and as much as I try not to think about it, it's bothering me. I'm all of a sudden not so ready to leave this place. 199 days is not enough time.

And there are still four people I need to tell, one of which I can't yet. So today I decide to get another one over with and tell Ryan.

It's a typical Victorian October day, with the rain and the sun taking turns of showing themselves and it's only 7am.

We're back to normal school routine now and as per the routine, an eighteen year old boy is taking up the entire bed and breathing down my neck. Literally.

"I swear to God, Alex. Personal space," I huff, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Do I like him? Possibly. Do I still enjoy my space? Very much so.

"Please, Dakota," he mumbles, keeping his arm secured around my waist. "Let me sleep."

"You can sleep without touching me." With both hands I try to wrench his arm from my body. It won't budge.

"Where's the fun in that?" I can feel him smile into my shoulder and I can't help but smile.

"The fun is that I get my own. Personal. Space." By the time he drops his arm and I get up I have hid my smile and now have a sufficient yet not deathly death-glare shooting his way.

"You know, I don't think I like you as much when you haven't had your morning coffee." He doesn't even open his eyes as he rolls over to my side of the bed, snuggling into my pillow. He's just messing up his hair.

"I'm fine without my coffee," I seethe, then frown. Huh, I see his point. I pad across the room in my shorts and tank top, searching for clothes in my drawers.

"Sure you are, Koda. Sure."

I ignore his sarcasm. "Is it cold outside?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you've been outside."

"Oh, right. Uh, yeah it's fine."

"Fine doesn't help me, Alex. Cold or warm? Jeans or shorts?"

"Go drink your coffee and then I'll help."

"No. I'll have my coffee after you tell me what the fruitloop to wear!" I huff, crossing my arms as I send a deathly death-glare his way this time.

"Did you just say fruitloop?" He asks, his voice on the verge of laughter.

"What of it?"

"Cute," is all he says, a small smile turning up his lips. "It's mild. Wear jeans and take a jumper."

"Was that so hard?" I ask, digging out my black jeans and grey hoodie.

"Go drink your fruitlooping coffee." And then he laughs.

"Don't mock me or you'll pay."

"Oh please, Dakota. You love me."

"You suck."

"That-"

"Don't you dare."

"Even groggy and grumpy and caffeine-less you're quick to detect upcoming lines. I'm impressed."