Boyfriend

Chapter 7

Blushing Home

"Telling a teenager the facts of life is like giving a fish a bath." - Arnold H. Glasow

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Merlin, bloody stop. Finite Incantatem.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Shut the ruddy hell up!

Be—

I swung out my arm and smacked the crap out of whatever was so inconsiderately arousing me from my slumber.

"Oww! Bloody freaking oww!" I yelped. I moved my blankets out of my face and opened my eyes to examine my hand. Thankfully, no blood was visible, but a dark red mark was forming by my knuckles. That was going to bruise. Moaning languidly, I wriggled a bit so that I was almost in a sitting position.

"Lily? Are you okay? What happened?"

Great. Now my mother thought I was being murdered in my sleep. I knew that shrill tone of panic. It was motherly concern voice number nine.

Beep. Beep. Be-

I looked over at the malevolent alarm clock and switched it off. My worthy adversary was defeated. I slumped down onto my pillows.

"Lily!" My mum called from the bathroom, I guessed.

I groaned. "I'm fine, Mum. No rapists or murderers or Petunia. You can stop freaking out."

"What was that noise? Are you hurt?"

I looked down at my hand, which was still bright red and swelling very slightly. At least my nails still looked good. Now I couldn't be forced back for a retouch before we left the Spa From Hell.

"Just my hand and my pride," I called back to her. "Who sets an alarm clock?"

I could hear her chuckling from all the way underneath the covers. "Lily, it's what you're supposed to do with them. It's completely normal."

"Yeah, well, I'm not," I retorted grumpily. "I hate beeping noises."

Emerging from the bathroom and looking refreshed, my mum walked over to me with laughter in her eyes. I hated it when people laughed at my expense. I was in pain!

She sat down on the bed next to me and kissed my forehead.

"Yes, but I needed to get you up somehow. I didn't want to get kicked, and Petunia's downstairs getting her arms waxed."

Ignoring her latter comment and the utter absurdity surrounding my sister and her unfathomable brain which made her think her blonde arms were hairy, I frowned at her.

"You set it?"

"Yes, and now you're up," she told me with a grin. "See, it does work!"

"Ooh, amazing. So do guns, but we don't test them out on our poor, unsuspecting children," I muttered underneath my breath.

"I heard that," Mum grumbled and smacked me over the covers.

"Oww!" I screeched. Somehow, she had managed to hit my hand. I tore it out from underneath the covers. "Of all the places," I moaned.

"Oh, let me see that," Mum said as she grabbed my hand.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry," she apologized while decreasing the amount of pressure she was using. She analyzed my hand with her fingers and pressed gingerly on the forming bruise. I did my best not to whimper or let the tears forming in my eyes fall.