Nathan Northwood is simply living the perfect life every teenage boy dreams of. He is rich, handsome, captain and star player of the basketball team, could have any girl he wants and is basically the king of EverGreen High. However, Nathan wears a c...
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HOPE
"Hope! Breakfast is ready! Hope, hurry! Hope!" Mom was yelling from downstairs.
"I'M COMING!" I shouted before flipping over on my stomach in my bed. I buried my head under my pillow, grunting tiredly.
"Is mom screaming again?"Jack groaned, sleepily.
"Is it Pancake Friday?" Jake's husky voice was laced with hope.
"But I ate all the syrup," Jay confessed with guilt laced to his voice and his face buried in his pillow next to mine.
I wanted to kick them all off my bed and sleep for the rest of my life. Actually, I didn't want to go out of this house, to school, to work or anywhere else. Just sleep. Only sleep.
But then it hit me like a heavy rock. And I practically flew off the bed, tumbling across the mess of clothes and other things I had no idea I even owned spilled out on the floor, to grab my iPhone from my even messier study desk.
I unlocked it and clicked into my contacts where I saw the newest name on my list.
Goldie🧡
I felt a delighted smile tug on my lips.
"I got Nathan's number!" I exclaimed, whipping around.
"The guy you wrote poems about?" Jay asked, hugging his (my) blue pillow with his eyelids half-closed.
"No, Jay. That's Bree," Jake murmured from underneath my comforter.
Jack sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What are you two talking about? Hope can't write poetry. She can barely spell Orangutang right."
"Hey! Shut it and get off my bed. Go get your pancakes before mom eats them all."
They groaned at the same time, tiredly. Their famous triplet groan.
Then, I yanked the comforter off their little seven-year-old bodies and shooed them out of my room. "Move it! Go, go, go!"
When their ginger heads were out of my room, I threw another glance at the name Goldie🧡one more time on my contact list before I stepped into the bathroom. Then, I put on a pair of black jeans and one of my favorite baggy, oversized red hoodies.
Afterward, I stood in front of the body length mirror hanging on the wall in my room and took in the sight of me while running a hairbrush through my curls. My bangs were crookedly falling over my forehead, covering a nasty scar from the car crash.
