I Write Romances, Not Live Them

Chapter 9

“Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone.” -Dorothy Parker

  "Get your ass out of bed you lazy potato!" Bria screamed in my ear and I shoved my pillow further into them in an attempt to block her out. "This is why you can never have a real job! You can't even wake up in the mornings!"

My only reply was a muffled groan as I shifted further into a ball, coddling my blankets around me and savoring the warmth.

Bria was practically straddling me where I laid on my bed, whacking me upside the head with a spare pillow. She was the most efficient alarm clock on the history of forever. Maybe if I would've given her the bed to sleep on, she would have slept longer. It was like that lumpy plaid couch unleashed a ravenous dragon.

"We agreed that today is phase one of Mission: Elliot." she continued, sending in a good cut that knocked my face sideways so I could taste my hair. "Why are you such a lazy a-"

"I'm up!" I finally cried, using momentum from my anger to push her off of me, sending Bria tumbling to the floor.

Even through the hair cascading around my face like a Bridal veil, I could see Bria's satisfied smirk as she said smugly "Good. It's going to be a big day!" She had way too much excitement for what we were going to do. I, in fact, was dreading it.

Once again, I grumbled as my face hit my pillow. I was already fading back into sleep when she began tugging at my arm and then I met the cold, hard floor.

"Ow!" I complained, feeling my head for any bumps.

"Hurts, Dundnit?" she said in a menacing tone that told me it was really time to get up.

"Why so early?" I asked, rising from the floor and checking the time, just after seven o'clock.

"Because," she started in that this-should-be-obvious tone of hers, "I have a meeting with this cool retro-ish store at eight. And my new boss already warned me that they're going to try to butter me up with free stuff so the company will use their products in a movie."

I scratched at my hair, feeling the mass of tangles. "What if they're not my size?"

"Oh, they'll be your size." Bria said confidently and with an air of knowledge of something I didn't. She started into the kitchen and dining room area with me following closely behind. Suddenly feeling cold in my thin pajamas, I hugged my arms to my chest.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked as Bria began to search through my cabinets for food. She sniffed a box of cereal I forgot I had, made a funky face, and pushed it back into the cabinet.

"I have a plan." her eyebrows wiggled as she said this and I began to feel the same sick feeling in my stomach. Her plans were the only reason I ever got in trouble in high school. And the only reason I ever had fun in high school. But still, they always had some sort of bad ending to them. At least then we wouldn't have to face the wrath of our ex-marine principal. The nightmares had finally stopped, though. That's always a plus.