Zenon's Game Chapter 132

He leant back and let me lay on his chest while he faced upwards. His arm rested on my back and stroked my shoulder all the way down to my pelvis. I don't know how much more we spoke – or if we spoke at all – because lying like that, on him, sent me into a deep sleep.

As I drifted into sleep, I heard him say something, but I couldn't remember what. If anything, it could've all just been a dream.

*Hours later*

A door opened and closed.

I opened my eyes and stared up at a strange ceiling. I held onto the sheets that were wrapped around me and realized they felt softer than the ones I was used to.

I looked down. They were blue.

It took a moment for me to remember last night. Zenon had taken me to his home, and we had fallen asleep in his bed. This was his bedroom, and this wasn't a dream.

I heard another door open. That's when I turned onto my side and saw him.

Zenon was already in a sleeveless shirt and black shorts, opening his closet. He held deodorant in one hand as he looked for clothes to change into.

His room was now flooded in sunlight. If only I could look that put-together in the mornings.

"You're awake?" I croaked, my eyes only half open.

"I tried not to wake you," he answered, grabbing some clothes to change into. His handsome features were a refreshing sight first thing in the morning.

"But..." I pointed at the window, it's so early out there.

I didn't express what I wanted to say, but he understood.

"I went for a run," Zenon explained.

My eyes opened wide and I reached out for my phone. Flying crickets! I hadn't set an alarm.

I ripped the covers off me and jumped out of bed. We have school today! It took me a moment to remember where I had put my stuff. I changed out of his shirt and into yesterday's clothes. I put his t-shirt into the laundry basket and grabbed my backpack.

In my mind, I looked calm doing this. In reality, I was shaking my sock out of my shoe and accidentally putting my shirt on back-to-front.

"Not staying for breakfast?" he asked, pointing at his shirt in a subtle hint that I should fix mine.

He must not have first period.

I forget that Zenon's a senior with a more flexible schedule, but I start class at 8am. I shook my head and gave him a quick kiss.

I'm not talkative in the mornings, especially without coffee. But he knows that already.

In my world, time is split into BC and AD: "Before Coffee" and "After Drunk".

Zenon nodded and let me go. "See you later."

I hurried into the hallway and had a mini panic attack when I realized that I'd have to sneak past Jake, Charlotte and Zenon's parents' rooms. So much, so early.

Is it still a walk of shame if I'm not ashamed?

I heard the sound of a shower coming from his parent's room.

I ran.

I must have looked like a mad woman sprinting across the street with my shoes in my hand. Thankfully, Zenon's bedroom window didn't face the street or that would've killed our romantic vibe real quick.

The front door to my house was unlocked and I dropped my backpack on the green couch, leaning against it to recover. No one seemed awake here either.

That was weird. My mother's usually up by now. Was I sweating from all that exercise? I checked my phone and saw the time.

6.30AM

"What the?!" It was way earlier than I thought.

Honestly, I didn't realize Zenon woke up that early to work out.

He's like a youtube morning routine video. I guess he really puts in the work to play the way he does.

But I really should've checked the time while I was still in his bed.

Maybe we could've had breakfast and gone to school together...

Which is what he suggested. I hate to say he's right - knowing he'd gloat about it all day.

Since I ran out of there like I was in a Tom & Jerry cartoon, it'd be a bit awkward to casually return for a bagel.

I poured myself a bowl of fruity pebbles cereal and sat down to eat while working on homework. Maybe I could take a page out of Zenon's book and go for that early morning productivity...

There's a first for everything.

*Many hours later*

I handed in my English assignment, proud of the 20 minutes of effort I'd put into it this morning. I rubbed a cereal milk stain off the corner and accidentally smudged one of the lines.

A perfect finishing touch.

Some students were hanging around Mrs Hathaway to give her their I-didn't-do-my-homework excuses. And Mrs Hathaway was busy lecturing someone for plagiarizing.

"Noah, you can barely put a sentence together when you speak. You expect me to think you write like Shakespeare?" Mrs H asked.

Noah answered in a way that made me think he was semi-high. "I'm a dude of few words but my mind makes poetry. You and me think differently Mrs H-"

"You and I," she corrected him.

He stared guiltily back.

I was about to drop my homework on her desk, when it slid out of my hands. Someone gently took it and was reading my poem.

"Ode to Roger; The cat with few lives," the voice read over my shoulder.

That was a voice I could never forget.

"Axel!" I exclaimed, turning around to see the cheeky smile on his face, "How come you're here?"

"I came to collect you Candace. You're missing a very important event that you can't miss."