Chapter 4

When I woke up, it was already past ten, and I could hear at least two people downstairs in the kitchen. Here’s what I heard:

“What are you doing up?”

“You woke me up,” said a very groggy voice, that didn’t sound too pleased to be awake.

“Well, what are you gonna do now?”

“Go and sleep in your bed since you are awake.”

“Ok, whatever you want to do.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Tired said, and I heard hear him clomping up the stairs.

I heard the door slam, and someone flop down on a bed. I wasn’t about to get out of my nice, warm bed, so I just rolled over, and went back to sleep. I woke up at about noon, and headed downstairs. I was dressed in my PJ’s, which consist of navy blue and silver tear-aways, and an old blue T-shirt, and I was ready to see what was going to happen next. I found everyone gathered in the living room, around the TV. The weatherman was on, and predicting that an even larger storm was headed our way, and would hit in about two hours. The boys took one look at the already darkened sky, and asked if they could just stay another day. Mom told them that whatever they wanted to do was fine with her.

I walked in, and they all greeted me with things like “well, if it isn’t sleepy head,” and “have a nice nap?” I assured them that I was now awake, and inquired on the whereabouts of the one missing member. They said that AJ was probably still asleep in the other room, and should be awakened soon. None of them seemed to want to risk waking him up. I assured them that he couldn’t possibly be worse than me in the morning, and my mom agreed.

I walked into the guest room, and marveled at how fast a bunch of guys could turn a perfectly neat and clean room into a pigsty. After picking my way through the mounds of clothes, I found myself staring at the sleeping face of AJ McLean. Now anyone who knows me, is aware of the fact that this is one of my lifelong dreams. I decided the tactic I would use to wake him up, and decided on the push and shake method. I poked him, and he didn’t move. Next I kinda pushed him, but that didn’t work either. Finally I just shoved him toward the wall, and he fell between the bed and the wall, sputtering and cursing. It was all I could do not to fall down laughing at the sight of him. He was tangled up in sheets, sitting on the floor, wedged between the bed and the wall, still cursing about being awakened so rudely.

He just looked at me and glared. I heard a round of applause coming from behind me, and turned to see everyone else in the house laughing at him. As he struggled up, I saw him shoot a glare over my head toward Howie. I wondered what this was about, but decided not to ask.

AJ was a good sport about getting up, and even joined in the laughter. Howie was laughing so hard, it looked like he was having a heart attack. I went back into my room, and shut the door. The front of my door has a poster of 98° on it. If you don’t know which poster it is, it’s the one with them dressed as firemen. Very nice. (It’s just about as good as some pics of BSB I have got) The back of my door is another story. The best way to describe it is “ Over 100 pics squished onto a space that’s about three by seven feet.” Another term for it is Backstreet Shrine. My room just got re-done, and the tape I use probably would damage my new bright yellow paint (my mom calls my room the “sunshine room” it’s so bright), so I had to put the pics on my door.

Chapter 5

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