when people have the nerve to ask for a shout out on a book that's a complete carbon copy of mine

like, "yes I stole a bunch of stuff from your story, now promote it for me" lol no bye

43 old fashioned sleepover

In the early morning light, when I'm standing in front of the sink brushing my teeth, doing my same every morning routine, and looking at my same face in the mirror -- brown eyes, brown hair, round face, completely ordinary -- it's easy to believe that I'm incredibly average; that nothing spectacular stands out about me.

I don't have any noteworthy characteristics, barely any friends -- if not only Ashton -- and if that's not bad enough, it's not like I'm even a nice person. Which only makes my sudden awareness even more shameful when I find myself wishing that I'd rather be anywhere in the world and doing anything else, then getting reading to go downstairs so that I can spend my entire day attempting to be a great maid of honor to my own mother. 

Face it Annie, you're kind of a bitch.

The sound of someone knocking on the bathroom makes me flinch, and I force myself to stop my unnecessary sulking as I pull my toothbrush from my mouth and rinse. I figure it's Luke, since Andrew and my mom share their own bathroom and before I go to open the door, I wet my hands, and sift them through my hair. It's no use. The curls remain wild and frizzy from sweating all night in the smothering heat of my bedroom and I still haven't gotten around to detangling them.

Realizing this, I let my hands fall back to my sides. I'm supposed to be steering clear of Luke until the wedding and me trying to make myself look better for him does nothing but make my point redundant.

"I'll be just a second," I call. Only, the door pushes open and Luke peeks his head in. His eyes are closed tightly, eyebrows scrunched together and he says, "Are you dressed?" His blond hair is messy from sleep, falling in disheveled wisps over his forehead and he rubs his fist in his eye as he yawns.

At the sight, I bite back a smile. Gosh, why does he have to be so adorable? It's hardly fair. Luke laughs quietly, "... Annie are you dressed?"

I nod, because I am. But I don't then I figure that I shouldn't be sharing a bathroom with him; another redundant point. "Yeah, but I'm not done in the ba--"

Just like that, his eyes blink open and he starts in. But before I can allow him the chance to make it past the door, I hurry over to him and hold my hands up against the soft cotton of his t-shirt in attempt to block his path. "Give me two minutes, I'll be done in like two minutes. I still need to fix my hair."

Surely we shouldn't be sharing our bathroom time together anymore. He could learn to wait a few minutes, just as I could. Unfortunately, Luke doesn't see things my way. But I mean, why would he? The confused tilt to his eyebrows and the speculating narrowed blue eyes are my fault. He doesn't know anything about my "plan" to keep away from him until the wedding and I know that I should probably tell him.

The truth is, I don't want to. Not yet. I'm too selfish.

"We can share the mirror, we always do." Luke reaches out and then suddenly his hands are on either side of my head, his fingers tackling my curls. He chuckles tiredly, "Damn, feels like I just sank my hands in a pile of horse hay."

I scoff, affronted. "Hey, it is not that dry!" He raises an eyebrow and I reach up to twists a strand of my hair around my pointer finger. Blushing, I huff, "Okay well maybe a little."

"A little is an understatement. You definitely got to do something with this." His hands are still tangled in my hair and with a smile, I roll my eyes from underneath the mass of hair and reach up to grip his wrists; forcing him to stop.  He gently pulls his hands free, before taking his time to tuck brown curls behind my ear; his thumb softly running over my earlobe. "You're always complaining about my," he scrunches his face up and proceeds to impersonate me, "'excessive amounts of hair products' yet -- I haven't seen you use any of them."

"One, I don't talk like that." I laugh, shaking my head, "And two, I don't use other people's stuff without asking them first."

Luke smiles and I feel the pad of his thumb slip down to rest lightly against the side of my neck, "I would never deprive you."

Slightly turning my eyes over to look towards the sink, I stare at all the spread out bottles and sprays and I slowly say, "I'm a girl and I don't even own that much stuff." I feel the slight hum of his laugh underneath my palm and I'm suddenly aware that my hands are still pressed against his chest. I lower them, "So, since you've gone all beauty guru on me, what do you recommend?"

"Definitely the hair mousse. It promises extra shine and volume." He says with a straight face like he's commenting on the weather and even though I try hard not to, a laugh slips from my mouth. Luke grins, and then just like that his arms are tight around my waist and he's lifting me up against his chest. In spite of myself, I let him as I bury my face into his warm shoulder. "You're such a weirdo."

"Well you love this weirdo."

"Debatable."

"Hardly." He walks us over the sink, settling me down onto the counter and then he grabs his toothbrush and points it at me, "Don't move."

With a roll of my eyes, I sarcastically huff, "Since when did you become the boss of me?" Blue eyes narrow and I cross my arms over my chest before pointedly leaning back against the counter. "Sir, yes sir."

Luke lightly taps my nose with the back of his toothbrush, "Good girl." Then he starts to brush his teeth. I look over at the closed bathroom door trying to gather a lie that could get me out of here. I could easily say my mom called me and that I'd just wait for him downstairs. I could even say that I thought I'd heard the doorbell ring. Liv is supposed to coming here today.

I sit up and start to shift off the counter but Luke quickly looks over me, narrowing his eyes. He's slightly smiling, his toothbrush tucked in the crook of his mouth and I can tell that he still thinks I'm teasing him. Well, there goes that. With a playful roll of my eyes, I shift back. While I wait for him to finish, I sort through his hair products. The bottles clang together as I clumsily reach for them, falling all over the place and into the sink and I huff as I scramble to set them all upright again. All of this is really unnecessary.

"Hey, what's the difference between this styling pomade and this hair gel? They both look the same." Setting down the gel, I twist open the small jar to the pomade and peer down inside of it. It looks like a candle; stiff, and off-yellow. I briefly wonder why anyone would want to put this stuff in their hair and then I hold it up to my nose. At least it smells nice.

I set it down and look back over at Luke. He's watching me, clearly amused and I huff as I close it. "Quit looking at me like that. It's not like I don't know what any of this stuff is."

He grins through a mouthful of toothpaste and I watch as he spits in the sink before dragging his thumb down the corner of his mouth, "Oh, I'm sure."

When he's all done brushing his teeth he turns the faucet off, looks over at me and smiles wide; his eyes squinting close as he stretches his lips back as far as they can go. Dimples indent in his cheeks and I grin, "Um, what are you doing?"

"Showing you my teeth." His smile drops for a second, "What do you think? Clean enough?", then he's back to cheesing. I laugh, "Blindingly clean."

"Perfect, now a kiss for m'lady." He raises his arm, pretending to tip the imaginary brim of his hat and then he positions himself between the parting of my legs; his hands coming down to rest on my thighs. I'm aware that I'm only wearing shorts, and his warm palms make a pleasing combination of both soft and callused sensations against me.

I tilt my head to the side, "Is it just me or does this remind you of a time when we were caught in this very same bathroom doing the very same thing?" Even though I say this with amusement, I can't help but hope that he thinks this over.

He doesn't. Blue eyes meet mine and he furrows his eyebrows playfully, "It's probably just a weird sense of déjà vu. I say we ignore it."

I feel the sudden rush of tingles pulsing through my fingertips and at the bottom of my stomach and I realize that this is the warning sign. The light flashing on and off saying, back up Annie. But I don't because it doesn't seem to fair to push him away right now. I let my arms wrap lightly around his neck.

"We probably shouldn't." I whisper and when he leans forward I can feel the slight brush of his mouth, smooth and cool, against mine. I try again, "That would only make us fools. Inconsiderate fools."

His lips twitch into a smirk, parting gently as he whispers, "Well in that case, I kind of like what being an inconsiderate fool has to offer." Luke's hand drifts to my hip, settling there for a brief minute before pressing against me and sliding me closer to him.

We're so close now that all I'd have to do is part my lips and we'd be kissing. But for some reason, I don't. If Luke is as smart as I know he is, he's made no mistake of noticing my hesitation. Still, he doesn't make a move either. "You okay?" He whispers.

What I really want to say is: "I think we shouldn't be doing this. Not this close to the wedding. Not when it only took a second for Chelsea to catch us and another for everything to go off the deep end." But the nerves get to me, and what I actually end up saying is: "I'm fine."

I let my eyes drift to my lap. Luke lifts a hand to brush my hair behind my ear, "Annie, what's wrong?"

I shake my head and force a smile, "Nothing, I'm fine." He raises an eyebrow and I laugh for the sake of myself. "Seriously, it's nothing. Come here." Then we're a conflicted fusion of kisses, hands, minty toothpaste and my wild, unruly hair.

---

After another uncomfortable hour of trying to avoid Luke in the house, and talking to my mom about some haircut that I'm supposed to be getting, Ashton finally shows up after his shift at Target. His brown curls are damp with sweat and he's holding on the straps of a black book bag, and alternating between eating a bag of Doritos and a coconut ice pop.

The top few buttons of his red uniform shirt are unbuttoned, and he's wearing those large, brown colored glasses again. I smile at him and wave him up the stairs to where I'm laying out all of the art supplies that we're gonna need for the centerpieces, "Hey, you're early."

His eyes are trained on the bottle of sparkly, silver glitter that I'm holding, and I watch as his eyebrows tilts in confusion before he says 'hey' back. Slowly finishing the chips in his mouth, he cautiously says, "Exactly how early?"

Shrugging, I carefully set down the mason jars and squint up at him, "A few minutes, maybe. Why?"

He takes one step back down the stairs, "Because I'm gonna leave and let you take your time destroying that glitter and any and everything else that even remotely sparkles." He nods, and points his thumb over his shoulder, "A walk around the block?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic and sit down." Laughing, I roll my eyes and make a show of shoving it back in the bag, before sitting up on my heels and gesturing for him to join me. "So, how was work?"

"This kid kicked me in the leg because we were out of season four Shopkins." Ashton shoves a Dorito in his mouth, takes a lick of his ice pop and settles down besides me, "I don't even know what Shopkins are."

"Sounds like you had a fantastic day."

He nudges me with his shoulder, "Tell me about it."

I laugh, grab my iPad and quickly bring up the centerpiece inspiration; absentmindedly saying, "They're these little, tiny toy characters that kids like to collect or trade, I guess. They look like grocery store items."

"What?"

"Shopkins."

He glances at me and narrows his eyes from behind his glasses, "From what I know you don't have any younger siblings, so is there something you want to tell me?"

With a smirk, I look up from my screen and lean in, "Luke is secretly harboring a bunch of limited edition Shopkins underneath his bed. Every night he takes them from out, polishes them, and then kisses each and every one of them goodnight." Ashton stares amusingly at me, and he licks his ice pop while I nod, "Last night I saw him reenacting the scene of a mommy croissant giving birth to a taco, while a refrigerator stood watch."

Ashton dimples, "Must of been quite a show."

"It was, you should've been there."

"Maybe next time." With a laugh he delves back into his snack. I scrunch my face up at his food, and even though it's rude thing to do, I seriously can't help it; it's a weird combination.

When I'm done setting everything out, the entire porch is decorated in art supplies, purple and white ribbon, baby-breath flowers, mason jars and scattered bottles of glitter and sparkly jewels. Ashton keeps shoving them aside away from him muttering that he'd be damned if he was gonna be caught dead hole-punching hearts onto paper and adding glitter to stuff in the same day.

I laugh, show him the picture of what we're supposed to be making and just as I'm choosing a playlist from my Spotify app, the sound of a car pulling up the driveway makes me pause. Craning my neck, I watch as a maroon colored minivan stops, the engine dying out and then just that fast, the drivers door is pushed open and I hear a loud, overly happy laugh ascending the walkway; I know it's Liv before she even steps into view. She's wearing a bright pink tracksuit, lipstick to match and her long, almost glowing blonde hair is curled neatly around her small shoulders. The sight makes me wish I listened to Luke and used some of his hair products, but it's too late now. My ponytail will just have to do.

I watch as she shakes her head, the hair falling gracefully to the side, and she turns to glance over her shoulder, "Don't forget to bring the dresses." It's her daughter, and I try to get a look at her in hope of remembering her name before she get's out so that I don't seem like a complete asshole for forgetting in the first place.

Liv calls for me and I jump up; ignoring Ashton's, "Do you know her?"

"Um, how does my hair look?" I mumble, looking down at him. He shrugs, and motions for me to lift the sides. I follow his instructions, awkwardly trying to appear casual as I drag the loose curls up in the direction of my ponytail before hurrying down the stairs, towards her.

"Good gracious, Annie, you're tall." Liv observes as I near her. She's carrying a box now, toppling with stuff which I'm assuming is for the wedding, and she smiles at me and opens one arm. Leaning forward, I let her hug me. "Hey, Liv."

She smells like perfume, and lavender shampoo and when she asks me how I am, I can smell the vague scent of mint gum. I lean back, "I'm fine."

Liv nods, "You like your new house?" Without waiting for a response she nods appreciatively and glances around, "Beautiful neighborhood."

"Yep."

She turns back to me, smiles again, "We'll catch up later, I've got a date with a bride-to-be." Before she goes, she looks quickly over her shoulder, "Go to the trunk, there's stuff to bring inside." Then she raises her eyebrows happily at me, and starts to head up the walkway. Only something dawns on her again, and she stops, turns around and frowns, "Annie, you'll have to let me do your hair before we leave. I can see those split ends from all the way over here."

She shakes her head like it's such a shame, and then hurries up the stairs. Before I turn around, I hear telling Ashton to come to help us. I roll my eyes, she could of at least said 'hi' before bossing around someone she doesn't even know.

A shield of blond hair is the first thing I see when I round the minivan to get to the trunk. Then, long legs that seem to go on forever underneath snug jeans, a backwards Mets baseball cap and finally a familiar bright smile that makes me blink in surprise, "Bryana?"

Her head playfully tilts to the side, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards into a smirk and I see her brown eyes glint in amusement, "Didn't know it was possible that you could forget your own cousin."

I'm briefly taken aback by how different she looks from the last time I saw her. She's taller, more athletically built and she's perfectly grown into her shape; hips and small curves visible underneath her jeans and pale blue tank top that looks nice against her honeyed tan skin. My eyes widen, "Geez, Bryana, when did you get so hot? Last time I saw you, you were so ..."

"Gangly?" She suggests, and shrugs halfheartedly, "College isn't cheap, and I couldn't keep taking out student loans so I started modeling. You wouldn't believe how much cash I racked up, doing it. Got this bad boy, this summer." She shakes her hair off her shoulder, and turns; gesturing at her neck. When I step closer, I realize that it's a tattoo.

"You got a tattoo?" I gape at the small symbol, "What is it? Did it hurt?"

"It didn't." Bryana laughs, "It's Japanese. Means, strength. Pretty cool, right?" Her hair falls back into place and she turns back to me, "So, can a girl get a hug? I missed you, Annie."

With a smile, I close the space between us and hug the older girl hard against me, "I missed you, too. My mom said Liv's daughter was coming. What are you doing here? The wedding isn't until two weeks."

Brushing her hair behind her ear, she leans back against the trunk of the car and shrugs, "Liv's daughter is in Cancun with her boyfriend, and I was slumming it at home from college. So we switched places, and I hopped a ride with her mom." Her pretty face scrunches up, "Did you ever notice how much Liv talks? My phone battery died before we even got on the interstate and I was stuck listening to her preach to me about skin care." She wrestles a dead iPhone from her back pocket, and holds it up mournfully.

With a laugh, I nod, "You can use my iPad charger."

Brown eyes roll, "Claire's still saying no to a phone?"

"I've never really asked," I admit. "I probably should, I really want one."

"If it has anything to do with me, you'll have one before I leave." With that, she jumps up and turns to the trunk, "Hey, help me with these dresses. Be careful, too. Liv's been annoying me about the damn things since we pulled up."

I step up next to her, and drape a clear, garment bag over my arm. I try to hold in my excitement, wanting to impress the older girl, but with every thought of how close we used to be growing up before she went off to college and all the memories surging throughout my mind, excitement is pretty much rolling off of me in waves. "How long are you staying?"

"Until after the wedding, Hope you don't mind sharing a bed. I --" she stops abruptly, rolls her eyes and calls out, "Whoever that is hiding behind the car, I kick ass in jiu-jitsu. So, come on out or be prepared to feel the wrath of me." Then she crosses her arms, and looks at me, "Who is that?"

I blink, nervous for a minute, and then realization dawns on me and I laugh, "Oh, Ashton!" She blinks, confused and I shake my head and hurry around the car. Pressed flat against the door, and biting his nails, is the older boy. He turns to look at me, and I drop my voice to a whisper, "What are you doing?"

His eyes widen, "What do you think I'm doing? Who is that?"

"Bryana."

"How do you know her?"

"Um, she's my cousin." I laugh, narrowing my eyes, "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Not really, no." He bites his lip, looks around the car again and whispers, "Why does she look like that?"

I pause, "... like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," he starts sarcastically, tilting his head to side and pretending to think. He stares straight at me, "An angel? Why the hell does she look like an angel, Annie?"

For a minute, I'm seriously confused and just as I starting to call him out for being crazy, I get what he means. I mean, obviously. It's not like he's blind. "Ooh, you think Bryana's pretty?"

He shrugs, thumbs his glasses up nose, peeks around the car and then says, "Well it depends. Does she really know jiu-jitsu?"

I nod, "Three years in training."

Ashton groans, "I should probably get out from behind the car then?"

"If you're trying to impress her, then yeah, probably."

He ruffles a hand through his sandy waves, takes his glasses off and shoves them in his pocket before mumbling something about having Dorito breath as then we both step back into her view. Bryana is staring down at her phone again, pressing her finger down on the power button in hope that it might turn on, and the back of her pink flops are dangling from her feet. She looks up, turns her brown eyes to Ashton and stares for a minute before saying, "Oh, it's a boy." Jumping up from the trunk of the car, she smirks and lazily tilts her head at me, "Who knew your first boyfriend would be a beach bum? Way to go, Annie."

I laugh, shaking my head furiously, "Oh, he's not my boyfrie--"

Besides me, he cuts in quietly, "I'm Ashton. We're just friends." I nod, gesturing towards him; repeating his statement, "Just friends."

Bryana narrows her eyes like she doesn't believe me and then leans over, plucks a duffel bag from the trunk and tosses it at him. "I'm Bryana. I'm also hungry, in need a bathroom and while you look like a pretty cool guy, we should probably get back to the introductions in like ... twenty minutes. Bathroom break and a sandwich and we can talk."

When I glance over at Ashton, he's lightly flushed and awkwardly trying to make sure her bag doesn't hit the ground. She tosses another one towards him and he dodges to get it, "Shoes." Then one more, "Makeup." Brown eyes slide to me, "We're gonna have us an old fashioned sleepover."

I smile and take the two dresses she's holding out to me, "First one to sleep get's a face full of whipped cream?"

"Oh the rules have changed, we're much older now." With a wicked grin, she closes the trunk, smiles politely over at Ashton and motions for us to follow her into the house. Lifting the plastic, garment bags up my now sweating arm, I turn to him and smirk. With his tousled sandy brown hair, tanned skin and hazel-green eyes he really does look like he spends his summer days hanging out at the shore. I step over, nudging him, "You do kind of look like a beach bum."

He laughs under his breath, and swings Bryana's bag so that it hits me in the thigh. His eyes are still trained on the girl ascending the steps in front of us and he quickly glances over at me and whispers, "Does this sleepover by any chance have an, you know, open invitation?"

I roll my eyes, "Definitely not."

---

AN -

really really think I might update again tonight. however, don't quote me on it .. I might get lazy

shoutttouts.

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zero - in which the world's most psychotic killer falls tragically in love with a girl. planetcxlum

the coaches daughter -When someone says, the coaches daughter, does it immediately imply as a cheerleader? A rude, know-it-all, prissy girl who thinks she's on top of everyone? Well not Alexandra Ford, her place on the social pyramid gets set for her and there's only one way to undo it, Calum Hood. skylarhemmo_

the cleaning lady // zayn malik - "Um, I'm here to apply for the job." write_a_life

love, luna - and I held her hand, thinking that if I held it a little longer she might stay. maybe that wasn't enough because, she never held back. artblush

whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake (the 100) - They know her as the runner, the infamous Ella Ricci has been on the run for years, after committing a crime. Finally, they caught her and she is being sent down to Earth with 99 other criminals. Will she stay at the top or fall to the bottom? glxtterashton

OKAY BYEE, THANKS FOR READING ILY PLEASE VOTE