Life is not like a box of chocolate. I squeeze my eyes shut from the sunlight coming in from the window, it's open. I turn my body away from the light before I reopen my eyes. I look across my room and find Doug asleep in one of my chairs. What is this, Twilight? I throw the covers off, and zombie walk over to him, still tired. I poke him hard enough for him to somewhat wake up.
"What are you doing here?" I ask him.
"Huh?" he mumbles.
I get closer to his ear and say it louder. His eyes flutter open fast.
"Why are you here so early?" I repeat.
"I wanted to check on you. I was worried about you babe," he says as he pulls me onto his lap.
"Last time you snuck into my house was like a few months ago. You have to text me so I'll know," I say.
"Sorry. Figured you were asleep," he replies as he strokes my cheek.
"You look better," he smiles.
"I still feel horrible," I mumble.
"Stay home then babe."
"My parents won't let me. They think I'm faking it."
"You could always just tell them your going to school, but sneak back in your room."
"How would I eat?" I ask.
"Or you could come to my house. My parents are on another road trip anyway," he kisses the side of mouth.
"Doug! That still counts! I don't want you-"
"Babe. I don't care. It feels like forever since we've even kissed," he says as he pulls me closer.
I close my eyes, I have to keep strong about this. I don't want him to get sick, but he's so irresistible. I slide my hand behind his neck, maybe one won't hurt anything.
"Fine," I smile.
He leans closely, but not with my lips, with my ear.
"First you have to get ready," he leans back and lightly pushes me away.
"Are you serious?" I ask with a jokey angry face.
"Always," he laughs.
Doug jumps out of the window without hitting the tree he climbs to get in here. I make my way to the bathroom, feeling queasy again. I throw up my guts, rewash my hands, and brush my teeth before heading downstairs.
"No excuses this time?" my dad asks.
"No. I guess I feel better now. Since you all never believed me," I mumble the last part.
"Good," he goes back to reading the newspaper. Yes he's lame.
I make my way outside, and find Doug waiting in his car on the other side of the street. He's parked in a driveway that everyone uses to visit us or the neighbors because nobody lives there. I look both ways before crossing the street, it's a habit. I run across the street and jump into his car, praying my dad isn't paying attention or watching my every step.
"Ready? I'll try to drive more careful in case," he asks.
"No. Not exactly," I pull myself on his lap, squeezing in front of the wheel. Payback.
I don't wait for his response before kissing him. His hands hold my chin in place gently, and my hands are around his neck. I pull away, leaving him breathless. He smiles showing his dimples again. I pull myself off of him and back into the passengers seat smirking.
"Now are you ready?" he asks.
"Yeah," I laugh.
We pull up in the driveway in front of his wonderful home. We jump out and run inside from the cool breeze hitting our bodies. He swirls the key around and opens the doorway, letting me in first. I instantly slide onto the couch and turn the TV on. How I Met Your Mother is on. Another great show. He slides on the couch opposite of me.
"Fine then. Don't sit with me," I say crossing my arms.
"You're the one who doesn't want me to get sick," he replies as he sticks his tongue out. He gets up to take a seat beside me but I spring my legs out quicker.
"No. I don't want you to sit here now. Jerk," I say as I turn my head away from him jokingly.
"This is my house! I can sit here if I want too," he takes a seat on my legs.
"Ouch!" I yell at the burning pain.
He's not fat, I'm just extremely weak. I push him off of my legs and onto the floor as best as I can.
"Then move," he growls.
"No! My spot" I smile devilishly.
He spoons me up into his arms instantly.
"Put me down!" I whine.
"Nope," he laughs.
He carries me upstairs to his private bathroom and sits me on the closed toilet. He runs out of the room and I hear the lock shut. Great. I look around at the unfamiliar bathroom. He said there was secrets in here, and that nobody was allowed in. I look at the white walls, and the wooden floors. The sink, toilet and bathtub are all clean and white. I get up, knowing he's not ever going to let me out until I apologize. I won't ever.
"Your never going to come out of there Frankie. Not until you say your sorry!" he says outside of the door.
"And it's never going to happen. I'll carve the walls out and escape, and I'll run away. Then you will regret it," I reply.
"Right," I hear him say.
"I know I'm right loser!" I reply.
I start looking through his cabinet and bathroom closets. Towels, extra soap, conditioner and shampoo, and a few random things thrown in odd places. I look in the last place, behind his toilet. A small piece of paper is crushed and crumbled with hand-writing that looks like mine. Wait, no way. I reach for fast hoping he stays out. I unfold the two year old piece of paper that me and Doug passed back and forth freshmen year.