Serendipity | 1 | ✓

Chapter 27 - What's the Deal, Pickle?

Author's Note: The only good thing about getting surgery is the fact that you get to miss school. That's why this chapter is going up so early, because I'm not at school and decided I may as well write. This is just a cutesy Bradley, Sydney chapter. The next chapter will have all the guys in there, promise. I hope you guys like this chapter! Lemme know in a comment? Also, my newest story, "Poor Little Rich Girl" goes up today, and I'm really excited about it! So, please, please, please read it! I'll put the link in the external link! Don't forget to comment and vote! Dedicated to writerbug44, just 'cause she's amazingly cool. c:

Chapter 27 - What's The Deal, Pickle?

“Wake up, beautiful girl.” Bradley coos in my ear, as he plops down on my bed.

“Why do you always wake up so early?” I wonder, pushing my face into my pillow.

“Because I’m not a night owl, like some people.” He defends. “Besides, it’s already 9:30.”

“And what possible reason is there to ever wake up at 9:30?”

“Well, there’s scho--“        

"On Spring Bring, I mean.” I correct myself.

“Right, well the reason is because your boyfriend wants to talk to you.”

"What about?” I groan. “I’m tired.”

“About nothing and everything.” Bradley answers. “I told you to go to sleep, but you were being stubborn.”

I open my mouth to reply, but the sound of Avril Lavigne’s newest song, Here’s to Never Growing Up fills the room, stealing my chance. I feel around the large comfy bed, searching for my phone. My fingers wrap around my white case-covered iPhone and I pull it from underneath a pillow, looking down at the caller I.D.

“Who is it?” Bradley curiously asks.

“My dad.” I say, eyebrows raised. My dad next to never calls me. I don’t know why; he just doesn’t.

“You gonna answer?” He wonders.

I nod, accepting the call and put the phone up to my ear. “Daddy?”

“Hi sweetie.” My father says in a chirpy voice.

“Hey,” I reply, confused as to why he’s calling me.

I mean, I know it’s not unusual for a dad to call his daughter, it’s just that my dad doesn’t. Whenever we talk, it’s usually in person, which is when I go up to his house and see him.

“How’re you? Are you having fun in Colorado?”

“I’m good. I am, Colorado’s been really fun so far.”

“Not too fun, I hope.” My dad says in a reprimanding tone.

I blush at his insinuation and shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “Whatever you’re thinking, no.”

“Thatta girl. We don’t need any grandchildren from you until you’re at least thirty.”

“Thirty?” I say, laughing. “That’s a little…far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“Not at all; besides, you’re too young for a boyfriend.”

“Dad, I’m eighteen.” I remind him.

“Exactly, too young.”

I guess we know where my stubbornness comes from. Out of my peripheral vision I see my boyfriend- I don’t think I’ll ever get over how nice that sounds- readjusting his position, lying down next to me and grabbing the remote control, turning the television on. I’m debating on whether or not I should tell my dad that I do have a boyfriend, despite his thinking that I’m ‘too young for a boyfriend’. The boys know now anyway and apparently have known for a while, so what the heck? I may as well tell him.