Innocence Interrupted 8

Now, I’m really not a morning type of person. If you try and wake me up, I’m usually the get-away-from-me-or-I’ll-kick-you-in-the-face type of person. So when I woke up, thanks to Amber’s ongoing phone calls, I was not in the peachiest mood. Since I was already pissy, after I retained all the events of last night into my mind, I was ready to blast someone out of a cannon. Preferably, Art.

I groaned loudly, and answered on the last possible ring of my phone, knowing it was Amber. Nobody else really called me.

“Amber! I’m trying to fucking sleep! Do you mind?”

The deepish laugh that escaped from the other end of the phone, I noted, did not belong to Amber. Unless she was deathly sick or something.

“Whoa. This isn’t Amber.” I sat up straight In my bed, fully awake. Could It be Trax?

“No. It’s not. It’s Trax.” At the sound of his voice, and the realization that Trax was calling me, my mood enhanced excessively. Then I thought about how I was supposed to be pissed at him. But I didn’t pay any heed to that part.

“Oh, hey Trax.” I spoke into the phone softly. And , of course, timidly.

“Taw, listen. I’m so sorry for everything that went on between us at the skate park. I wasn’t trying to imply that guys were superior to girls. I mean, just not many girls skateboard.” He said.

I had to smile at how sorry he really sounded. It was extremely adorable, and I was unable to stay mad at him.

I said, “It’s okay. I just…have this thing about guys thinking they’re better than girls.”

“So, does that mean you might possibly want to hang out with me today? Amber can come ,too.”

I almost shrieked in joy at the prospect of ogling at his hott ness, or the charm he has when talking to you. I restrained myself. On the inside I might be freaking, but I’m quick to assure you, I would never act that way in life.

“Uhm. Yeah. That would be cool.” I replied, showing none of my concealed emotions. Why did I have to be so damn quiet?!!

“Alright, so, do you want to come to my apartment at around…3??” He asked. Wait, he had his own apartment?? How old WAS he exactly?

“Okay, sure. But one thing, how old are you?” I could not believe I hadn’t asked, or even thought of asking, before.

“I’m 19.” He replied. Whoa. Hmm, an older guy..Woooww…..WAIT! Since when am I into older guys? What is WRONG with me?

“Oh.” I said.

“How old are YOU?” He asked.

“16” I said.

“Wow. Your younger than I thought.” For some reason, he sounded disappointed. I would have asked why if I wasn’t to shy.

“Do you live alone?” I questioned, instead of asking the inquiry that was pestering my mind.

“Naw” He said, and offered an explanation. “Quentin’s my roomate.” Oh..so he doesn’t live with his parentss….

“Oh, ok, well, tell me the directions, and me and Amber will be there at 3.” After receiving the directions to his house, I called Amber, and told her about the impending plans. She agreed, and was coming over to get ready.

I threw my cell phone onto my bed, and scurried across the cold filled floor to the kitchen. Of course, Hawlin wasn’t home, and my mom was at work.

As I grabbed some cold pizza and cherry coke out of the fridge, my thoughts drifted happily back to Trax. I truthfully didn’t think he would want to talk to me ever again! And even if he did…how would he have gotten a hold of me? How DID he get my phone number?

The most likely answer was Amber. I don’t know when, or how, but she must have told him some time or another.

..Out of the corner of my eye, I read the stove clock, and saw that it was already 1:30. I never sleep that late. But then again, I didn’t get to sleep till nine….

Art face flickered in my mind before I pushed the unwanted memory of last night into a deeper part of my brain. He was NOT going to ruin my life, or my chances with a guy I actually LIKE.

I stood up, and walked out of my tiny kitchen, into the living room, and curled up on the leather couch occupying my darkened living room. All of the curtains were pulled over the balcony door, and the few windows. I loved being alone. Not having to listen to people ranting and complaining.

I fell asleep, and was awoken to the sound of footsteps. OH, no. I thought. It can’t be him again.

I sat bolt upright, and snapped my head toward the footsteps.

“Ok, you aren’t ready yet?!” Amber. I should have known.

I groaned loudly, and fell back on to the comfort of the couch.

“No. I fell asleep. What time is it?” I asked.

“2:30, and it takes about 10 minutes to get there if I’m judging from the directions you gave me.”

How she knew where every little place in this town was located is one of the many mysteries to my mind.

“Shit.” I said Tonelessly, and jumped up for a quick shower. After getting out, I slipped on some black, cargo Capri’s , bright green flops, and a lime green cami, and grey shirt. My back hair was perfectly straight and shiny, and my make-up was flawless, thank to Amber.

It’s amazing how hott you can look in a matter of half an hour. Even though it was now 3, and we were definitely going to be late, looking this gorgeous was worth it. Yes, for once, I thought I looked pretty. Amber, in her jean burmuda shorts, and purple tube top, matched with black flops, looked like a super model. Bitch. I didn’t mean that.

After locking up my apartment, we galloped down the many stories of stairs. Little did we know there was disaster waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Ok, not really disaster. But it sure wasn’t a good thing.

“Beeee!!!! Bee!! OH MY GOD I’M GONNA DIE!!! BEEEE!!!!!” Screeched Amber. Not only was she squealing, she was flailing around the parking lot like a fish out of water.

I would have helped her if it wasn’t for my maniacal laughing. Amber has this thing with bees. She calls them yellow death on wings. She’s only gotten stung once, last summer, and has been terrified ever since. Literally, terrified. Hint the “BEEEEE!!!” *FLAPS AND FLAILS ARMS*.

After about 2 minutes of this going on, seeing as how the bee was chasing her, haha, I took pity.

I started to run to her car, and open the door, opening a way for her to escape the bee, but when I accidentally stepped on the back of my flop with my foot, it snapped, and I tumbled. To the ground.

Instead of screaming and running, Amber stopped dead in her tracks, stared at my form sprawled on the sizzling concrete, and clutched her stomach in an attempt to control her laugh attack. Yes, she has laugh attacks. She had forgotten all about the speedy bee, and it apparently didn’t like her sudden stillness, so it stung her. Right on the lip.

She screamed in pain, and I jumped up, ignoring the bleeding on my shins and hands, and rushed over to her. Her eyes were wide, and tears shimmered, but didn’t fall. She had her hand over her lip, and when she took it away, I noticed the stinger still stuck in her lip.

“OHMEEGOB. THAFUKIBEESTUGMALIP.” She had her mouth open, and was trying to talk without moving her lips. I grabbed hold of her shoulders, trying to calm her down, while I pressed my lips tighter together, suppressing the hoot of laughter threatening to detonate out of me.

If I laughed, she was likely to slap me.

She was talking incoherently and it was making my effort to not chuckle even trickier than it was.

“Amber! Quit talking so I can pull this damn stinger out of your lip!” She apparently had no idea whatsoever that there was a stinger stuck in her lip since her eyes rounded and her lips pulled back from her teeth, making her look like a horse. You know, when they smile or whatever. I couldn’t help the hoot of laughter at her face, and she glared at me with her teeth still pulled back.

This was unbearable. I already couldn’t breathe, and sounded like I was having an asthma attack.

After turning my back on Amber for a couple seconds, she spun me back around and pointed at her lip. I paid no attention to the hilarity of her expression and focused on the bee. I gingerly plucked it out, and she finally put her lips back to normal. Except they didn’t touch.

Her lip was already swelling and looked like it was getting no better. I had blood running down my legs and hands, with little pebbles stuck in them.

Amber looked down at my blood hands and knees and her eyes widened.

“We are going back to your apartment.” She stated, and grabbed my elbow, starting to drag me toward the apartment building entrance.

“No.” I said, and reeled backward. “We can still go. I’ll just get cleaned up there.”

She glared at me, and I crossed my arms. I really wanted to see Trax.

“And what about my lip?” She asked. Even though she no longer had the stinger stuck, she still talked a little funny due to the swelling.

“It’ll be fine.” I replied, and started walking toward her car. Only then did I notice that my broken flop was still in the middle of the parking lot, and there was a car pulling in.

Shit, I thought.

The gold minivan ran over my flop without a second thought and continued to park.

I trotted over to it, picked it up, and decided it was fixable.

I glanced over to see Amber getting in her car, and not long after joined her.

We might have looked like hoboes, all bloody and swollen, but that wasn’t going to stop us from having a GREAT time. I hoped.