《Perfect Strangers》15| Pajamas
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We walked into school, heading for first period English. I was excited because sitting and working with Carter was fun. He made everything funny. But I was also nervous because Hudson was in that class.
We were sitting there and as slowly the class began filing in, we began noticing a pattern. Almost everyone was wearing their pajamas and had quite literally rolled out of bed this morning.
Carter and I looked at each other before looking at everyone else. "I guess her party last night must have been a rager. If everyone is that hungover then-" he stopped talking when Abby herself stumbled in, seeming drunk.
Like she drank so much that she was still drunk instead of hungover. "You." She pointed her finger right at me before walking over, grabbing onto desks for support on the way. "You liar."
"I technically didn't say anything," I stated. Well...
"She just agreed with what I said," Carter spoke up.
"You!" Abby yelled at him. Everyone groaned and placed their hands over their ears like her voice was deafening them all.
Connor and Hannah walked in while talking and swiveled right around, ready to skip the first period but Mr. Blaze stood right behind them. "Come on now," he said, pushing them back into the classroom.
"You are a lying scumbag, Carter Reed," Abby slurred.
"Ms. Forrester. The principal's office awaits you. Head on out, please," Mr. Blaze sighed, holding the door open because as far as I knew, she would probably walk right into it. She scoffed before stumbling back out, going in the wrong direction. "Now, the ones who are sober," he huffed, "Continue with the work from last class."
Hudson walked in late with his dramatic entrance. He loves having all the attention. In fact, he hates it when the focus isn't on him, which was another reason why he didn't like me hanging out with other people.
"You're late, Mr. Peterson. Your partner is not here, so pick a group and work with them please."
Carter and I both stiffened in our seats while Hudson glanced around the room. "Do you think if we look like we're working we can avoid him?" he whispered.
"Maybe, but we have to try," I replied. Carter and I both turned in our seats to face each other and began talking about various scenes from the play in hushed tones.
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"I'll work with Alex."
"Alex and Carter, that's who you would like to work with?" Mr. Blaze asked.
Hudson nodded.
"Sir, we're almost done. It's not fair if he just gets to come in and write the essay that we came up with and get full credit." Carter lied flawlessly. He had no tell.
"I'm sure Hudson can add to the group," Mr. Blaze shrugged.
"Sir, we're almost done, please," I said. He probably understood my plea because he nodded.
"Please pick another group, Hudson. A group where you can participate more." I let out a sigh of relief and sank back in my chair.
"Whoever you pick, sir," he replied. Mr. Blaze assigned him to work with Jamie and Oscar who were sitting to my right. Hudson came and took a seat to my right and I resisted cursing into the void.
Carter grabbed the legs of my chair and pulled it closer to his before standing up.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Switch," he said.
I couldn't help but grin like an idiot while I stood up and moved my bag and things over, taking his seat. I sat back down while he did too before we turned to face each other. "Thank you," I whispered.
"I got you," he winked.
I laughed before we genuinely got to work. By the end of the first period, we had the first drafts of our essays done. All we had to do was tweak them a bit and they'd be good enough to submit.
"So we do work well together. Like I thought," he grinned while we walked to Spanish.
There is always that one class that depresses you at just the thought of it. That was Spanish for us, and only because of Ms. Rodriguez.
She's not even old, so why does she act like they're a stick up her ass all the time?
"Spanish," we sighed in sync as we stood in front of the classroom. "Good, God. Alex, let's skip," he said as we walked to our seats.
"Sit down," I huffed. He whined but took a seat behind me nonetheless.
"¡Buenos días!" she sang while skipping into the class.
"What the-" I mumbled.
"Fuck?" Carter finished the sentence for me.
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"¡Hola!" she greeted everyone. The whole class was dead silent, waiting for her to snap back to reality. "Today is a free period for you all," she declared.
"What's the occasion, Ms. Rodriguez?" someone asked from the front.
"I am engaged!" she beamed.
Jaws dropped across the classroom, including mine. I looked to my right where Carter had moved his desk. "Hey," he smirked.
"Wha- I-"
Who is marrying her?!
"Close your mouth, darling," he chuckled, putting a finger under my chin and closing it for me.
"She- engaged?" I whispered.
"I would hope she isn't like that at home. That's just sad, anyway. Free period. What do you wanna do?" he arched an eyebrow at me.
◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆
We were sitting at the cafe now that school was over. I didn't want to go home because there was chaos over there when I tried stepping inside, and Carter felt like keeping me company.
"Come on, you can help me out a little bit. Please," he complained. For the past twenty minutes, he had been trying to convince me to tell him some date ideas for Friday. I wasn't going to because this wasn't my idea.
"Your idea. You wanted the date. You have to organize and come up with it, otherwise, I might as well do it myself," I shrugged.
"But how am I supposed to organize a date when you don't give me the slightest hint of what you want to do?" he pouted.
"You've known me long enough to know what I like and what I don't," I shrugged.
"For a date? We have never even spoken about dates," he huffed.
"Okay, I'll help you out just because you're getting cranky. What do you wanna know?" I sighed in defeat.
"Tell me some things you like."
"Prompt me."
He rolled his eyes, "Ice skating?"
"I'm not very good at it."
"Movie?"
"Hell no."
"Fancy dinner?"
"I said nothing fancy."
"Hiking?"
"Nah."
"Pottery?"
"Pottery?" I voiced my confusion.
"Yes or no?" he whined.
"No? I don't know how to do pottery."
"Me neither. Game night?"
"Game night is fine."
"See, that wasn't so hard. Dramatic for nothing," he scoffed.
"I was dramatic? What about you?" I chuckled.
"Your place or mine?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me expectantly.
"Yours."
He smirked while his eyes lit up with amusement.
"You want to go on a date with my parents right there with us? That's fine. We could do my place," I shrugged.
"Mine is fine," he straightened up.
I laughed while he grabbed a tissue and began sketching. "How come you always sketch? Where does that come from?" I asked.
"My mom put me in art class as a kid. I would go with her. She used to sculpt and I would be sitting there learning how to draw a freaking flower," he chuckled, "I can't really do portraits or anything, so I just sketch the little things that I see. It was at this little studio that had no more than five tables. It was our thing. I stopped going when she passed. It became too hard sitting there without her."
I didn't know what to say, so we sat in comfortable silence for a while, me watching as he sketched. I folded my arms while looking around.
"Can you not sit like that? Don't fold your arms," he said without looking up.
"Why?" I asked while unfolding them.
"I can't see your bracelet that way," he paused and looked up, "And if I can't see your bracelet. Then what am I drawing?"
I looked down, seeing the familiar beads and heart charm that dangled off of it. "Sorry," I smiled sheepishly while he continued sketching and we sat there getting to know each other better.
Here's what I learned:
He's broken his ankle while jumping a fence because he tried to save a puppy from getting hit by a car, he once dyed his dad's hair pink and that lasted an entire month. He got in a lot of trouble for that one.
His favorite movie is probably something Marvel, he doesn't know. He's never had cotton candy, which is just heartbreaking, and he goes for boxing in his free time.
Explains his body at least.
.
.
.
.
.
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