Centuries

Knowing Eliza

I awoke that Saturday morning to my head heavy, my nose stuffy, and my mouth dry.

Ah-chop!

I sneeze, jostling me in my bed. My head screams in pain. This is worse than any hangover.

Throwing my legs over my bed I read 8:27 on my alarm clock. Crap! I spring from my luxurious bed and over to my closet. I slip on the first things I see. A black tank top and white skinny jeans. Quickly I hop around attempting to put my socks on. Finally I run down the stairs and slip on some blue flats.

"And where do you think you're going?" My mom stands in front of the door, her arms crossed.

"Mom I don't have time for this, I'm going to be late for school!" I huff, slightly out of breath.

"Nice try dear, but it's Saturday," she raises a brow.

My face drops.

"What?" I stare at her.

"It's Saturday," she repeats herself.

"You've got to be kidding me," I groan, plopping into a nearby chair.

"Don't tell me you were actually planning on wearing that to school?" My mother shakes her head disapprovingly.

I look down at my disgruntled outfit and my gut sinks. I'm hopeless.

The rest of the day, I spend on my laptop messaging Margy and watching videos on YouTube.

Around 4pm there's a tiny knock on my window. I get up from my desk, and ever so sneakily peer out my blinds. Instantly I'm greeting by a pair of luminous green pair staring right back and I stifle a shriek as I jump back from the window.

"No, no. Shh. It's me, I just want to see you," Charlie's voice is muffled from my window.

My heart beat slowly down considerably at the fact it's not a burglar or a monster. I step toward the window and pull up the blinds. Sliding my the glass open, I step aside so he can enter.

"Thanks," he shoots me a dashing smile.

"So," he starts as he rubs his hands together. His eyes roam around my room.

"Want to give me the grand tour?" His gaze falls on me.

"Uh, sure," I shrug.

"This is my desk, this is my bed, that's my closet and this is my laptop," I point around my very basic room.

"You don't really have much do you? Most teenagers rooms are messy and cluttered," he comments.

"My mom doesn't believe in materialism," I shrug. "It's the moments in life that add value. Things like achievements, memories, experiences, values, that's what defines a person. Not the objects they carry in their pocket. But in their mind and hearts."

Charlie nods, considering my views. "That's a nice perception."

I return the nod as I sit on the edge of my bed.

"So what's your favorite food?" Charlie takes a seat next to me.

I mull his question over in my thoughts.

"Cotton candy," I reply, thinking back to the last day I spent with my dad. It was the day the carnival was in town and I had cotton candy for the first time.

"Color?" He throws out another question.

"Blue, like the sky," I answer.

"Season?" He asks staring intently at my face.

"What's with all the questions?" I furrow my eye brows at him.

"They've been driving me mad," he chuckles.