Writer & Drummer // a.i

9

I opened my eyes and heard a beep coming from my bedside table. I yawn and turn away from it.

The Saturday morning was way too early.

Another beep. I sigh. Who would care enough to annoy me early this morning?

I turn over and picked up my phone, which was bombarded with text messages.

from bean bag: hey good morning
from bean bag: doing anything today?
from bean bag: hellooo
from bean bag: are you awake?
from bean bag: yo
from bean bag: oh my koalas wake up

bean bag: you hate koalas
from bean bag: no I don't!!!!
from bean bag: but hey you're up
to bean bag: hey back at cha
to bean bag: it's too fuckin early
from bean bag: well too bad
from bean bag: i'm taking you somewhere in town today
from bean bag: get ready by 11am
to bean bag: wait what
from bean bag: no excuses

What?

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. It was a nice morning. The sky was blue, the trees were getting ready to wither... Or, rather, some already are.

It was October-worthy.

I dragged myself out of bed and took a shower. I wonder where Ashton was going to take me?

I put on a white shirt and an orange cardigan with skinny jeans. I checked my phone.

10:37am.

I've got plenty of time left to eat breakfast and chill a little bit, so I went downstairs.

My mum was downstairs, watching television in her pyjamas. "Morning, mum," I said absent-mindedly, grabbing the box of cereal by the counter.

"Morning. Sorry I didn't check on you last night. I was so tired." She yawned. "Don't worry, mum," I smiled, sitting down next to her with my bowl of cereal. "I'm going out with a friend today, okay?" "As long as you trust her, I trust her." "It's a him." "Oh. Well then, invite the boy inside for a bit. Can hurt him, can he?"

Oh shoot.

to bean bag: my mum wants to meet you. eeek >.<
from bean bag: no problem! I'm smooth with the ladies
to bean bag: ha ha. I'm not joking.
from bean bag: sssshhhh I'm coming over right now

I finished my breakfast and hung out with my mum for a while. She was one of those women who don't even try to get in with today's generation because it was all just too much work. She also accepted the fact that she was getting old. I'm quite lucky to have a mother like her.

When we were on the topic on the most ridiculous shows of her time in the '80s, there was a knock at the door. "Is that him?" My mum asked. "I think so," I shrugged, getting up and answering to the door.

Surely enough, it was Ashton. He was wearing his glasses with a quiff under a beanie, a grey long-sleeve with black sleeves and jeans. "Hey there," he smiled, his dimples deeper than Aristotle's quotes. "Can I come in?" "Of course, it wouldn't be me to leave you out here." I smirked, letting him come in.

He walked in and looked around. When he saw my mum, he smiled and waved. "So you're her 'friend'?" My mum raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Mrs. Hazelwood. I was thinking of going to a certain place with her today, but I don't want to ruin the surprise in front of her." Ashton grinned at me. I punched his elbow. "I see. Now you teenagers be careful. Dangerous people out there. Dangerous," mum shook her head.