Nothing, But A Number

Chapter twenty-three

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Picture of Story
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New Attention⚠️ : I appreciate all of you guys feed back and the love you showed for this chapter. Two people suggested some ways I can make it better. One with making it flow more and taking out  the time skips @indie_gerl. The other going into details about Shannon and Lucas's conversation @thenerd89. So I did just that!
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If you have read this chapter before something's maybe repetitive for you, but there is new things added into this!!
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Don't forget to vote and comment!
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"I PUT YOUR PICTURES—" I immediately jump up from my sleep alarmed.

What the hell is going on?

"—ON MY MIRROR!
START TO BLUSH WHEN SOMEBODY SAYS YOUR NAME!—"

Rubbing my eyes, and looking around the room to gather my surroundings.

"IN MY STOMACH THERES A PAIN
SEE WALK IN MY DIRECTION
I GO THE OTHER WAY
I START TO STUTTER WHEN I SPEAK
START TO STAND BUT MY KNEES GO WEAKKKK—"

Is that Story screaming to the top of her lungs?

"WHATS HAPPENING TO ME?
IN THE DARK, CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT IT MEANS?"

Oh goddddd!! She learned how to work my surround sound!!!

I plop back down on the bed and look over at my clock to see it's eight thirty a.m.

You have to be kidding me Story! It's eight a.m. and it's SUNDAY for crying out loud.

"I LAY MY HEAD ON MY PILLOW
STARING OUT THE WINDOW
WISH ON A STAR FOR A SIGNNNNN
YOU'ER THE REASON WHYYYYYYYY!!!!

YOU'RE ALWAYS ON MY MIND!—"

Storyyyyyy turn it off!!!! Please! I wanna sleep in today!

Then I hear a bunch of stuff falling in the living room area.

Fuck! What did she get into.

Letting out a frustrated sigh I get up and start making my way to the living room. Rubbing my eyes on the way. When I get to the end of the hallway, I take my right hand and hit the button to turn off the surround sound on the wall. Looking to my left I see Story still in her pink princess pajamas, holding cleaning supplies in her hands and the ones she dropped on the floor.

Child what are you up to this morning?

"Hey! Turn that back on! It took me forever to learn how to work that thingy!"

"Story, why are you up at eight a.m., blasting music, and getting into things?" I ask, yawning.

"Because silly it's Sunday cleaning!" she says, cheerfully.

Sunday what?!

"Sunday what?" I ask.

"Sunday cleaning, silly. How could you not know what Sunday cleaning is? It's the most hated and refreshing thing to do." she says, sitting the rest of the stuff on the floor.

"If it's hated why would I do it? Plus, my apartment isn't dirty as you can clearly see." I state, like it's the most obvious thing.

"It's hated by kids, not adults. Also my grand-momma and mom always says, 'Just because it looks clean on the surface doesn't mean it is.'" She says.

Is she calling me dirty?

"I'm surprised you didn't wake me up earlier. Momma always have me up a six, but I guess since you leave in an penthouse it's won't take as long to clean." she shrugs.