Make This Perfect Again

I woke up shivering, and I didn't know why. Usually my bed was very warm first thing in the morning. I slowly started to wake up, all of my senses started to kick in. My pillow wasn't my pillow, it was too scrunched together to be my pillow. The bedsheets felt slightly dirty, and mine were always clean, because Jazz always washed the bedsheets. And the lingering scent of body spray clung to air. I moved around under the blankets, only feeling skin on bedsheet. 'Either I'm naked, or I'm just in my pyjamas.' I moved around again. 'No, there's a blanket. I must be naked.' I had to open my eyes, but I didn't want to. I slowly opened my eyes and stared at a wall. Not what I was expecting, but I decided I'd go with it. The walls were a strange blue colour, and my walls were white. I rolled over, and sure enough, I was in Josh's room. But Josh himself...was no where to be found. Finding this a good time to find my clothes, I quickly put on my underwear, bra and jeans, but having no lucky finding my tank top. I do remember I had that very same problem the first time I had ever slept with Josh.

Giving up on my search for my tank top, I sat back down on the bed and tried to recount the events from the previous night. Josh had left sticky notes all over my apartment complex, we went out to dinner,then came back to Josh's house. Everything after that was hazy. Then, a large pain struck through my head. I pressed my palm to my forehead. Then I remembered that when Josh and I had arrived at his house, after he assured me his parents weren't home, and weren't going to be home for three days, we had a few drinks. "Ugh, note to self, don't ever drink with Josh again." I got off the bed and picked up a t-shirt that was n Josh's floor. I smelled it first, mind you. Knowing Josh, there was always a mix of clean and dirty shirts all over his floor. I quickly walked upstairs to find Josh in the kitchen, making something on the stove. I snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He jumped slightly before realising it was me. "Mm, what are you doing?"

"I was going to attempt to make food." Josh said. I smiled and let go of him. He turned around periodically, then back to the stove. "Why are you wearing my shirt?" He asked me.

"Because I can't find mine." I said. Josh smirked, obviously knowing where it was, but I knew he wasn't going to tell me. Another twinge of pain struck my head and I clasped my hand to my forehead.

"What's wrong?" Josh asked, looking kind of concerned.

"My Potter-senses are tingling! Voldemort has risen!" I said. Josh shook his head at me and walked over to the cupboard and threw a bottle of advil at me. I caught it and walked over to the sink, trying to reach up to grab a cup from the cupboard. The Ramsay household was built for tall people.

After Josh and I had eaten the delicious pancakes he made, I remembered I had to go over to Airin and Marque's for a writing sesion. We had been putting off writing the album fro about 2 months now (it was now the beginning of March). Josh drove me over to the Jaulby-Baxter apartment, after he had 'found' my shirt for me.

"Okay, how about..." Keith paused, mid-thought and sentence, and then just going wild on his guitar, making no logical sequence of anything. Airin, Marque and I all laughed at Keith. He, all of us really, always got extremely frustrated when trying to write a new album.

"That's our next big hit right there!" Airin said sarcastically from the kitchen. That was worthy of a few chuckles. Airin appeared in the living room, two bottles of rootbeer in each hand. He gave us each one and he sat down on the bean bag across from Keith.

"Josline, how are those lyrics coming?" Marque leaned over to me to look at my note book. I cleared my throat , stood up, and started to recite the words I had written on my page.

"Ahem...I give up." I plopped my self back down on the couch, and Airin clapped, sarcastically, of course. "Hey, I don't see you trying over there mister!"

"If you remember correctly, I already have a plethera of lyrics written." Airin said. It was true. He had been writing lyrics since he was about 13, so he had enough lyrics to cover about 8 albums.

"Write from expierence." Marque suggested. "What has happened that has changed your life?"

"There's so many things..." I said. I looked at the neck of Marque's bottle of rootbeer. Then, an idea clicked.

"Oh!" I started to scribble some words down into my note book.

"Going to Chamber of Secrets?" Airin asked. I muttered something, randomly hissing at Airin while writing. Every one laughed and they didn't bother me until I finished writing.

"What did you write about?" Keith asked.

"My bulimia." I said.

"You...were bulimic?" Marque asked. "Why?"

When I was picked on, in Elementary school, and part of grade 7, by Josh, when I moved, I started to purposely make myself throw up. Being called 'Chubs' all the time, really had an effect on my brain. I thought I wasn't pretty enough, so I thought, "hey, let's make myself throw up!" It really wasn't a plesant time in my life, and I regret every moment of it.

I had told Josh about my bulimia, and he seemed extremely depressed he caused me to do that, but I forgave him. I just couldn't find it in myself to be mad at Josh when he seemed so sorry about it. Josh acted as a safety blanket, in a way.I felt like I could always rely on him when I felt like everything was falling apart, or even when everything had fallen apart between me and him, I still had a strange attachment to him.

I had a really great feeling that this new album was going to be phenominal.