The Makeover

20

"Life is messy; clichés are clean and tidy."

Hugh Macleod

20|The Tickle Monster

When I woke up the next morning, I expected to be wrapped up in the arms of Jake, like what happened in every movie and clichè book of this century, but I was surprised to find that Jake had already left.

I patted the spot where he had once been laying longingly and let out a heavy sigh.

Falling asleep next to Jake the night before, had opened my mind to so many possibilities.

And because I was who I was, I immediately thought of what happened in false realities to try and substitute for my lack of experience in these types of matters.

I was sure that all I dreamed about had been waking up with Jake, his hands wrapped tightly around my waist. I would squirm in his arms and try to get up, but his grip would be too difficult to escape. I would eventually sigh in defeat and then he'd wake up and whisper in my ear. His morning voice would be heaven. I would silently blush, but he'd never know and then from that day on, he'd probably tease me about that time we'd slept together until the end of time.

But none of that happened. I realised that I kind of wished that it had. It would be one of those moments you never forgot, but still seemed to be the base of your relationship with someone.

As I rolled over onto my back, I got tangled in my sheets as usual. I let out a short annoyed sound and started beating up the sheets with my fists, even though I knew my efforts would do nothing to get me free. My eyes stayed closed through my struggle and after a while, I laid motionless, finally coming to terms that there was no use in trying to remove my sheets. They were like freaking vines.

My eyes snapped open, when I heard a door open. I quickly took my spare blanket from the side table and threw it over my head, which had been my best attempt at hiding myself. Turns out I was still visible to the world.

"Get out Joshua! It's early!" I screamed and dug myself further under the blanket. My cheeks were becoming flushed with all the contained heat beneath the blanket swarming around like flies.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked from across my room. I didn't miss the undertone of amusement in their voice. My eyes immediately widened in realisation and I slowly brought the blanket away from my face, but as soon as I saw who was standing and staring at me, I ducked my head under again.

"I thought you left." I stated, my voice muffled by the sheets.

A second later, after much hesitation, I felt the blanket being taken away from me. I tried holding onto it, but failed since my hands were feeling helplessly numb in that moment.

As the light hit my face, I diverted my eyes and they immediately landed on Jake, sitting on the edge of my bed. I glared at him, but it didn't seem to intimidate him in the slightest.

I groaned when a smirk lit up his face. He chuckled slightly and then poked my cheek teasingly.

"You're cute when you're angry." He stated and then got up from the bed and grabbed a tissue from my night stand. He handed it to me. "You might want to..." he began and pointed to the corner of his own mouth, gesturing for me to wipe away my drool.

I groaned again and turned around, wiping the embarrassment away from face. I also turned around because I was sure that I turned the same colour as a tomato.

When I turned back towards Jake, he was holding out a hairbrush. I furrowed my brows and took it from him as his eyes twinkled.

"What are you? My personal helper now?" I asked as I ran the brush through my tangled hair. He just smiled mischievously.