Not About Angels ➳ A TBNRFrags/PrestonPlayz Fanfiction

I Hate Mondays ➳ Chapter 23

Nicola's POV

January 26th

I groan as my alarm goes off. In any other situation, I would scream; I have a fear of loud sounds. But I'm too exhausted. I stayed up until 2 am reading, meaning I only got four and a half hours of sleep. It's pretty good, considering that I will be at school about half an hour early.

But I have English first. Great.

I tear my body from my bedsheets, tossing them to my messy room floor. I blink several times, trying to get the 'sleepies' out of my eyes. As I trudge through my doorway, my side hits the small metal doorknob, making me gasp in pain. It turns out that I got a bruise from where I landed when Preston pushed me down on Saturday. I still haven't talked to him for the two day interval between now and the past dance, and I haven't been talking to Aiden lately, either.

Or anybody for that matter.

Not my friends-even Joey-or my family much, but strangely, I've been texting Quinn. How I got his number I can't recall, but he has lightened my mood over the weekend from the traumatic experience at the formal. I didn't see him after he left the gym on Saturday, but Aiden did come back just as Meg was leaving-she must've found Quinn. Aiden had his hands so clenched that his knuckles were turning white. He kept telling me that everything was fine now; that I won't be 'bothered' again, whatever that means.

He drove me home afterwards; I lied saying my stomach hurt. I just wanted some alone time. My mom asked me why I was home so early, and how I got home for that matter. I just spoke the truth; I was too tired.

Fortunately, she didn't seem suspicious about anything that might be going on between Aiden and me, so I had just gone upstairs, plugged in, and watched some old Preston videos. I don't know why, but I did have a good laugh. I saw some of his really old 'Hunger Games' videos, up to his early 'How to Minecraft' SMP episodes. Hearing his voice was like listen to that song; the one that was your favorite ten years ago, and then listening to the nostalgia. His laugh was perfect along with his weird curses. "You cactus jones!" and "we freakin' lost boys," and "you sandstormer!" I wish he was still here...

After reminiscing, I just remember hours of darkness, assuming I asleep. I recall looking outside after waking up, with clear eyes; I had left my contacts in my eyes by accident. Seeing the faint light of the sun peeking over the horizon had told me it must've been early.

Sunday was pretty boring. The usual; watched videos, played Minecraft, drew, wrote, ate, did homework, study, slept... My schedule is pretty bland. I'm not an overly-religious person/family, so we don't go to church, really. My brother appreciates it in some ways; he sleeps in until 2 pm on weekends.

Then I got a text. I checked my phone; the number was unrecognizable.

'Hello, fellow classmate.' It said.

To be honest, it did creep me out at first,but I came to a conclusion that it was Quinn. I texted him all day, surprisingly.

And now I'm just tired after mere hours of sleep.

I sleepily wander into the washroom, the lights blinding me when they flicker. The smell of nothing greets me as usual, and I find myslef brushing me teeth and what not.

After all the necessities, I stare at my reflection in the smudged mirror. I had visible bags under my eyes, and I had smudges around my cheeks. I apply concealer and pressed powder before locking up; I'm too sleepy to accurately apply makeup.

Somehow, my mind traces back to... Preston. Why? He hates me. He pushed me and stormed out, he's ignored me for a week, and he's dating my-pretty much-enemy.