You Can't Call Dibs

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Edited (7/14/20)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I groaned as I blindly searched for my phone with my head still face down in my pillow. It was 7am and time to get up to get ready for another fun day at practice. 

As for last night, it was a wild night as Miles and I read our books in silence for an hour before going to bed. Very sexy and scandalous, I know. That book kept his mouth shut for a full sixty minutes and I couldn't have been happier.

After I located my phone, I swiped the screen to turn off the alarm. Laying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, not wanting to get up. This was an all too familiar routine. Miles was still fast asleep on his side of the room. I've found that he doesn't set an alarm for himself and is under the impression that I would be waking him up again like I'm his mother.

With much apprehension, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. Muscles in my legs and shoulders cracked and popped like an old person and my back ached to the point that I wanted to double over in pain. There was no way I was going to make it through the day without some assistance. 

My backpack was sitting at the end of my bed with my various toiletry bags inside. Mom had packed me a special bag that held a couple of few bottles of medications that I might need. Crawling to the end of my bed at a snail's pace, I grabbed my backpack and searched around for the cosmetics bag they were in. When I located the little tote, I unzipped it and began pulling out bottles. The orange containers had large white labels on the side, identifying what was inside.

Claritin, anxiety pills, eye drops, and Advil spilled out first. The painkillers were next, which I took and popped the lid off. I poured two of the blue and yellow capsules out before screwing the cap back on. 

I grabbed the water bottle that was in the side pocket of my backpack. I placed the pills on my tongue before taking a swig of water. I just hoped I would be feeling their effects soon. 

I had about 45 minutes to get myself ready and down to the cafeteria to be on time for breakfast. I headed to the dresser first to pick out clothes for today's practice. With little interest, I plucked a pair of gray pants, a royal blue T-shirt, a socks, sports bra, and a pair of panties out of the drawer.

A soft grunt came from Miles's side of the room. He was still asleep, which means yet again I needed to wake him up. I might as well make this enjoyable for myself. I grabbed a thick pillow that had fallen from his bed and crept over to his side without awaking him. Raising the pillow over my head, I let out my war yell before smacking him square in the face with it. As soon as the feathered stuffed linen hit his head, Miles's eyelids snapped open.

"Hey!" he yelled, trying to defend himself with outstretched hands. 

Even though he was awake, I couldn't help but add in a few extra slaps with the pillow. Might as well get even while I had the chance. Once Miles realized that I was not planning on stopping anytime soon, he grabbed on to the pillow and yanked it out of my hands. He stared down at my weapon of choice in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" Miles asked exasperated. His blonde hair was disheveled from the pillow assault and almost made me want to reach out to fix it for him. Almost. 

"Nothing," I said with a straight face.

"You were beating me with my pillow."

"Just waking you up."

"A simple 'hey Miles, wake up' would have worked."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Miles rolled his eyes, giving an annoyed groan before lifting the comforter to cover his face.

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