Cutie Alert!

Chapter 8: TGIF (Thank Goodness It's Friday)

 

Chapter eight

TGIF (Thank Goodness It’s Friday)

 

Alex

 

“Ugh, I hate Fridays,” I grumbled as me and Caitlin entered through the doors of the school, not being able to hold our excitement for tomorrow.

    “How could you hate Fridays?” Caitlin asked in disbelief, clutching her white bag as we walked over to our lockers. “It only means one more day until Saturday.”

    “Oh, I didn’t mean today,” I said with a pfft. “I meant the restaurant. My family treated it to me yesterday ‘cuz I had to skip school because of that stupid drink I took a sip of. And let me tell you, that chicken does not do well with my intestines. I can almost taste that horrible sandwich.”

    “Well, I can almost taste this morning’s breakfast,” Caitlin said, making a gagging face. “Thanks a ton, Alex.”

    I smiled sweetly at her, taking her words too literally. “Your welcome!”

    She rolled her eyes at me as we arrived at our lockers – that were conveniently next to each other and right next to the boy’s bathroom. Caitlin opened her locker, and a note fell out. I furrowed my eyebrows at it. “Hey, what’s that?”

    Caitlin frowned when she saw the note and bent down to pick it up. “I’m not sure,” she said as she got back up and put her bag on the floor.

    “Read it out loud,” I said as she opened the small paper.

    She cleared her throat. “Your eyes are like the ocean, your hair like a golden field. I’m under your love potion, I’m under the charm you wield,” she paused to look at me.

    “Ooh,” I said in a little teasing voice. “Someone has a secret admirer. Read the rest.”

    “Whether your hot at the beach, or just with your friends and chillin’, remember that I will see you,” her smile disappeared and turned into a scowl. “Love, Dylan.”

    I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter. She narrowed her eyes at the note, crumbled it, and threw it back into her locker. “Oh, come on,” I said, chuckling a bit. “At least the guy rhymed.”

    “At least the guy rhymed,” she said, mimicking my voice in a really bad way.

    “Hey,” I said, offended. “I don’t talk like that.” I looked to the side, a far-off look on my face. “Do I?”

    “Alex,” Caitlin said, snapping me back to her. “This isn’t funny.” She started getting her English books out of her locker. “Hey,” she said, grabbing something out of the locker. “What the?”

    Once her hand was out, there was a beige jacket in it that didn’t look very feminine or Caitlin-like. “A Levi’s jacket?” I asked in disbelief once I saw the label. “Really Caitlin? I thought you were more of an H&M kinda girl.”

    “It’s not mine,” she said in a small voice, looking at it over and over again. She seemed to have a look of memory lane on her face as she examined the jacket.

    “Am I missing something here?” I finally asked.

    She sighed. “This is Dylan’s jacket. He gave it to me last summer when we first met in Holland. I had given it back to him when I saw him – y’know.”