Friday is always such a drag. Though the lessons aren't terrible, it just seems to stretch on forever; holding us back from the imminent weekend.
It's such a bore that I almost forget that Brad is meant to be coming round to stay the night; almost forget. But that thought stays at the back of my head all day, getting increasingly louder with every minute that goes by.
As we leave physics, sheets of homework in hand, we make our way out of the front gates and to the bus stop. We both wave to Tristan as he crosses to the other stop, waiting in the cool February air.
"I've got to pick up a few bits from my house before I come round but I'll be quick," Brad says, rubbing his hands together to keep warm.
"That's fine. You might want to put a coat on that list of things." I add.
He shakes his head, "I'm not that cold."
"Sure you're not." I grin. "You're just hopping about for the fun of it."
"Well, it's easy for you to say." He remarks. "You've got a huge winter coat on!"
"Yep," I say smugly, wrapping it tighter around me. "And it's lovely and cosy."
"Well I think you should share it with me."
"Uh... What?" I stutter. Images of Brad and I bundled together in the coat flood my mind. I feel my face burn, turning scarlet.
Brad's face turns just as red. "Ha, um..."
Luckily the bus turns up, causing the crowd around us to surge forward, cutting the awkward exchange short.
The bus ride isn't long and I hop off at my stop, leaving Brad on there waving to me. I wave back and trudge up the road to my house.
Once inside I tear off my coat and shoes, racing up the stairs to my room. I survey it, checking to see everything is clean and tidy and that there's nothing embarrassing left out. I spot a bra haphazardly strewn across the floor. Mindlessly I stuff it into one of the bedside table's drawers: done.
I haul my school bag on to my bed and take out Brad's portrait, along with my brushes and paints. I take the brushes downstairs to rinse off all the residue paint and grab a glass of water to wash them with later. I assemble it all on my desk, ready for when Brad comes.
I spend the rest of the time waiting by scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. Not really paying any attention to the posts, but instead constantly checking the time.
The digits in the top right-hand corner shift to 16:15. Where is he, what's taking him so long?
Just then I hear the doorbell ring out. I trample down the stairs, rushing to get to the door first before the rest of my family.
I'm beaten to it. My Dad opens the door just as I hit the bottom step.
"Hi, Brad isn't it?" My Dad asks, opening the door even wider to let Brad in.
"Yep, I'm here to model for Emily's painting," He quips, posing as if he was on a catwalk.
My Dad laughs. "Well, you best get to it then." He says, ushering him in. "Oh," he adds turning towards me. "Do you want me to order pizza later for dinner?"
"Is that even a question, of course, yes please!" I nod.
My Dad smiles at us again and wanders off into the kitchen.
I guide Brad up to my room and instruct him on where to sit so that the lighting is just right for the picture.
***
I manage to paint one of his eyes before we end up completely distracted. To enthralled in our conversations to pay attention to it. At some point my Dad comes up to give us the pizza and we end up sitting together on my bed watching Rushmore.
The portrait, paints, and brushes sit on the floor at the foot of the bed, untouched for the rest of the evening. By eleven my Dad pops in again, handing over the pump and blow-up bed.
"I just don't think Emily's bed is big enough for the both of you, that's all." My Dad tells us. "And I also don't want any funny business happening, so you'll be sleeping on the blow-up." He addresses to Brad.
"Daaad, it's not like that. We're just friends, ah."
He grins at me and goes back downstairs to finish watching TV.
We set up the bed and then split off to get ready for bed. I let Brad take the bathroom and I get changed into my short pajamas.
He comes back wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms that hang rather low on his hips.
"Shorts, really? You were complaining to me earlier about it being cold and now you're wearing shorts to bed." He questions
"Yeah, I just get hot in bed."
He laughs at my answer and I blush, not intending for it to come out as an innuendo.
"Oh fuck off, you know I didn't mean it like that."
"Mhm," he responds still smirking.
We keep talking for hours, until about half one in the morning when I finally succumb to sleep.
At some point in the night, I feel something cold on my shoulder, shaking me lightly.
I bewilderedly call out a, "huh," to find out what they want.
"Sorry Em, I didn't want to wake you," Brad says. "But it's freezing cold on the blow-up bed and I was wondering if I could share with you as you did say early about how warm you get."
I don't really process the response and instead fling back half of the covers.
The bed dips, the springs creaking slightly as he gets in. I scoot over, making more room for the both of us. His icy hands brush against my arm as he pulls up the covers.
"Cold." I say as I take his hand between mine, trying to make it warm in my dazed sleepy state.
"Yep." Brad whispers.
He adjusts his position in the bed and I lay my head on his chest, finding it more comfortable.
His breath hitches and I can hear the steady drum of his heart.
"I'll make you warm." I mumble to him as I slip back into sleep.
"You already do." Brad sighs, kissing the top of my head before I fall deeply back into my dream.
~ AN: Sorry it's been a while. I kind of got stuck when writing the last chapter and became unmotivated to continue with this. But I went to the London show on Saturday and it reminded me that I had left this unfinished for months. So thanks to seeing the boys live, I'm now fully driven to complete this story.
However, updates are likely to be very irregular for the next few months as I have exams starting soon. Additionally, if I have not finished this by the end of the summer, it is highly unlikely that it will be completed as I will be starting university in September, but I am striving to have it done by then. This also means I might not write any more stories after this one, but you never known, something may happen in the future.
I want to thank all you wonderful people who have supported and read this along the way, you're the reason I want to finish this; I don't want to leave you hanging. Bless you all and I'll see you in the next chapter, whenever that is. x ~
YOU ARE READING
Highschool Sweethearts ~BWS~
FanfictionEmily thought that nothing could go wrong at her new school. Then again she didn't know about Brad Simpson. ~Highschool AU fanfic~ Has a slow build but is updated infrequently, hope you enjoy :)
