Hopelessly Devoted #Wattys2014

Hopelessly Devoted - The girls

Layla's Point Of View

"Race you to the stop sign!" Hope called out as she changed her pace from walking to a full blown run.

"Last one there has to sit by Joey!" I laughed, increasing my own speed as we went down the slope on Cherry Street.

Joey was thirteen year old kid who attended our church. There was nothing wrong with the child, he was actually a nice kid. It's just that he didn't realize, or rather, he didn't care that he was too young for high school girls. So whoever was unfortunate enough to get next to him during church, had to endure his pick up lines for the entire service. It was cute at first, flattering even, but after a while it got annoying.

Hope picked up her speed even more at this statement. Neither of us wanted to be stuck by him, but Hope really didn't. He had quite a large crush on her. I pushed myself to catch up with her. Once I caught up with her, I couldn't get past her. My best friend had naturally long legs, whereas I did not. This tiny detail made racing against her a challenge. We made it to the stop sign at the same time and we were equally out of breath, even though we had ran down a hill.

"Can we just call it a tie and make Janice sit next to him?" Hope was resting her hands against her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"Deal!" I copied her movement. Once we got the air back into our lungs, Hope checked her phone.

"It's 8:10, we've got to hurry or we'll be late for Sunday school."

"No more running or races." I pleaded.

"I don't have enough energy to walk, much less run or race." She assured me, as she readjusted the her ponytail. Running had knocked some of her hair out of place.

"I don't think I am going to be able to stay awake for the service." I yawned, stretching my arms above me.

"I thought exercising in the morning was suppose to make you feel energized." Hope yawned as well. Yawns are contagious things.

"It probably does, when you get more than five hours of sleep." We had gone to bed a little after one thirty, then got up at six thirty so we could go walking.

We turned on the sidewalk, down Holland street, and made our way to Hope's grandmother's. We spent almost every weekend at Mamaw's, and last night had been no different. By the time we made it onto Mamaw's front porch, it was eight-twenty. She was already awake, I could hear the clattering from the kitchen before we even opened the screen door. It was a regular Sunday morning thing. I already knew that I would find her with a coffee cup in one hand and a spatula in the other. This morning, she had on a yellow dress with her black apron over it, protecting it from the food. "You girls are running a little late this morning, aren't you?" She handed me a plate piled high with pancakes. "You go ahead and eat breakfast," Then she pointed to Hope, "Go take your shower, y'all have thirty-five minutes to get ready.

I sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Mamaw poured a glass of milk, then brought it over to me. Mamaw lived alone in a three bedroom, two bathroom house on the corner of Holland Street. Her husband, Grandpa Bill, died about three years ago. Hope's mother Sadie, was their only child and Hope was their only grandchild. Even though, I was in no-way related to them, they had claimed me, sort of like I was their adopted grand daughter.

Hope took an amazingly quick shower, probably the fastest one she's ever taken. She walked back into the kitchen, towel drying her hair as I shoveled another bite of pancakes into my mouth. I downed the rest of my milk, then ran to the bathroom at the end of the hall. At eight-fifty, Mamaw was ready to walk out of the door, even though she had told us we had until eight-fifty-five. I was trying to put the finishing touches on my make-up, while Hope was hunting for her silver sandals that were no where in sight, even though she swore up and down that she had brought them.