Story.

BPOV

Mondays are the worst. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to give us a day that we spend our whole life dreading? I know it isn't really the day's fault, but more what it represents i.e. the abrupt halt of the weekend's leisure and the return to the "real world". Well, screw the real world. And screw the people who decided that getting up at 6 am in the morning was acceptable!

Hello, I'm Bella Swan and I'm addicted to sleep. And we aren't talking an ongoing infatuation, taking me out on a couple dates and we'll kiss goodnight on the front porch type of a deal. No, we are talking hardcore, married for life, always satisfying, don't know what I'd do without him type of a deal. I sleep more than the average person, and I am only vaguely apologetic about it.

Anyway! I detest Mondays because those days signal the beginning of my school week. I know, I know, I was complaining about the "real world" and it can be successfully argued that college life isn't the "real world" (hey, there really is no rebuttal to the argument about being able to do an entire semester online and not leave our apartment if we don't want to). However, it is the precursor to that "real world" that gives me the heebie-jeebies. I mean, high school for me was pretty awesome and college is a blast…it can only go downhill from here, right?

After my five minute internal debate about how much I don't want to get up, and then the brief flash of pleasure at my rebellious "well, I just won't" thought process, the inevitable occurred and I dragged myself out of my warm, comfy cocoon of beautifully blue-green, 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets on my wonderful queen sized bed…damn. While my practical side was distracted with adjectives, my lazy ass had jumped right back in.

…Take #2…

After finally convincing myself that there would be dire consequences stemming from staying in bed forever, I went through the morning's boring routine. I'd describe it to you, but as there are only so many flowery adjectives to describe brushing one's teeth (like "the smooth glide of the firm bristles over my teeth, coupled with the subtle, comforting massaging of my gums to produce that squeaky, clean, minty feeling one gets after you've successfully brushed your teeth" and there really is no pretty way of saying you used the toilet…I mean really. *eye roll*). I did take a little while longer than usual in the bathroom, though. I grew up a tomboy and firmly believe in the less is better ideal with make-up.

However, it was the first day of school, so I felt I should at least put in some effort. I studied myself critically in the mirror for a moment before getting to work. I hardly ever wore concealor, not because my face was perfect but because it just bothered me, so my lightly tanned skin was left alone. I have a circular face with wide, somewhat almond shaped eyes that are ringed in green with brown centers. I applied a bit of eye shadow and some mascara before moving on. My nose has always been described as "cute as a button", which actually annoys after awhile, and is somewhat petite with a slight upturn. Nothing much I can do about that, so I moved onto my lips. Now, my lips are one of my few vanities as they are in the classic cupid's bow shape and full, though my bottom is more so than my upper lip. I was blessed in that they are usually a pinkish color, so I swiped some cherry chapstick over them. Lastly, I concentrated on my hair. I have quite the love hate relationship with it, as it is wavy and therefore never stays where I want it. On the other hand, it is a rich, thick dark brown that looks glossy in the sunlight so I really shouldn't complain. I had gone through the 45 mins worth of trouble to straighten it last night and banish the wave, so I did a few touch ups with the straightening iron and called it good.

After yelling my goodbye to Rose and Alice on my way out the door, because SOME PEOPLE have class schedules that starts in the afternoon…*grumble grumble grumble*… sorry I'm back! After saying goodbye, I began what I was sure to become my customary dash to the bus around the corner. Now, as you may've surmised, I'm not a morning person. But, I will admit there is something about walking in the early morning, breathing in that cold, fresh morning air and listening to the birds chirp…or not. More like listening to "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor". I don't know about you, but personally I've found there is a correlation with my moods and music. As I wake up in a vengeful mood most morning, I find that listening to hard rock helps cure me of my need to do despicable things…like take the last of the milk in the fridge to tick off Rose or make small children cry with my crankiness (joking! …kind of).

Despite my taste in music, the beauty of the morning was not lost on me. There is something almost magical about it, with its predawn stillness and the feeling of possibilities that rises with the sun. The satisfying sound of stepping on crunchy, brown leaves and watching the wind set the trees to gently swaying against the backdrop of a sky filled with fluffy white clouds. So beautiful, so easily taken for granted, so making me late! I picked up may pace to match the thrumming bass and guitar riffs murmuring through my headphones. As I rounded the corner, I was treated to the vision of my bus pulling away. I didn't even bother running after it. It was easily a 5 minute mad dash across a busy street and I'd never make it. I cringed, dreading what I knew was going to come next. I turned around and booked it back to my apartment.

Cautiously, I peeled back the dark blue covers that were hiding my sister. Slowly I revealed the long, shiny, gorgeous dirty blond hair that framed her oval face. Rose has an intriguing face that manages to be both arresting and lovely simultaneously, with a strong jaw that counteracts her somewhat narrow, oval face and her lips, while not full, were pleasantly curved and helped soften her face. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow with vitality in the early morning light and I was loathe to wake her; I knew the serene expression for the mask it was. I took a deep breath and whispered ,"Rose". Nothing. I tried again, this time with a little shake "RO-ose" and again got no response. I SO did not have time for this! I abandoned all pretence of niceties and shook her shoulder firmly while yelling "ROOOSSSSEEE…." *punch* *punch*

Yes, my older sister, one of my heroes, socked me. In the shoulder. Twice. And damn if she hadn't been practicing her moves with her tank of a boyfriend again because GOD that hurt! I was reduced to whimpering for awhile, rubbing my injured shoulder after which the demon that vaguely resembled my sister pierced me with a sleepy stare, her blue eyes that fluctuate from a royal blue to the steely grey they were currently alerting me to just how annoyed I'd made her. She demanded to know why I'd woken her and after I mumbled out what happened with my bus, she heaved a long suffering sigh. "So, now that you've missed your bus you're expecting to take the car." "Well," I replied with an apologetic tone, "it would definitely be useful in the quest to get me to school for my first day!" Yeah, she wasn't buying the false cheeriness I was selling. After a grumble and an eye roll she gave me a weird hand motion and rolled over. So…I took that as a yes and stole the car keys on my way out the door again.

Yes, my older sister and I share a car and yes, we live together along with our best friend Alice in a small yet cozy 3 bedroom apartment on the upper side of State street in Santa Barbara, California. It is a gorgeous city, nestled between mountains and the ocean where seasons hold minimal sway and we enjoy sunshine about 335 days out of the year. I attend the local community college, Santa Barbara City College, in my quest for my nursing degree while Rose was accepted to University of California Santa Barbara (UCSB for short) and is working on her Bachelors in Political Science with a minor in History…*bleck*. But, whatever works for her! Alice, our shared best friend and sister of the heart since elementary school, also got accepted to UCSB and was working toward her major in Journalism. The three of us had been beyond excited when it worked out that we'd be living together as we'd always talked about it growing up. As cliché as it sounded, we were our own little group of The Three Musketeers. We just moved to SB about a month ago and it was a tough adjustment, as we arrived during their almost obnoxiously hot summers. Since our apartment wasn't spiffy enough for AC (read that as "wasn't expensive enough"), we had to deal with fans strategically placed to magnify whatever minute breeze wandered in through our wide-open windows. Let me tell you, there were entire days where we were in our swimsuits and taking turns having cold baths in the tub. But all in all, it is a wonderful place so far and we are enjoying ourselves.

After making it to school and finding out that my school is inadequately equipped with parking spaces, I rushed to class…and found my nemesis. At every school there is going to be some kind of problem. The grass is horrible, there is a funky smell, there is always construction, etc. I found out what my problem was going to be immediately; the hill. From the parking lot, there is a deceptive looking hill that you have to trek up to get to class. Now, I am not fat (and I will hit anyone who says otherwise), but I am out of shape not a huge fan of exercise to begin with. This hill flat out kicked my butt. I was a bit sweaty and panting when I reached the top and I don't know about you, but that's just not my most attractive look! To make matters worse, I was late to class. Now, there are a couple kinds of late: a smidge late which is a couple minutes, a tad late which spans anywhere from five to ten minutes, and late which is 10 minutes and beyond. I was beyond late. By the time I found my classroom, I was a whopping 25 minutes late to an hour long class. Yeah, I know, so not my day. Now, I am a shy person by nature. I try not to act like it, but I extremely dislike being the center of attention, especially by a bunch of people I don't know and my teacher who are all going to judge me for being late. So…I called Rose. Yes, I know, kind of pathetic.

"Yes!" Oh boy, I thought, she isn't in any better of a mood. "Hi Rosey, it's me." Now, I am one of only a few privileged few allowed to call her that, so I use it as frequently as possible. There was a slight pause and then I heard our hereditary sarcasm kick in. "Yes Jelly Belly, I know it's you. They have this nifty new invention called caller ID on the phone that alerts me to who I'm talking with BEFORE I actually pick up the phone and talk to them! Crazy, I know, but so helpful dontcha think?" Oy vey. She used the nickname that she knows annoys me. Why on Earth would my parents name me Bella, when it is one of the easiest names to make fun of? Anyway, I decided to ignore her rhetorical question and instead filled her in on my situation and asked her what she would do. She busted out laughing at me. This is who I look up to, folks, and she is all but peeing her pants on the phone. "You're *snicker*hiding around the corner *snicker* from the door to your class and you aren't even going to go in! *full on laugh* Are you serious!" … I dead-panned my response, "Why yes, Rose, I'm kidding. I just stepped out of class to come up with a story to make you laugh to have a wonderful start to your day. It isn't like I am seriously contemplating not going to my class. At all." At which point she lost it and started full on belly-laughing. Great. Because that is super helpful to me. Thank God, Alice heard Rose dying in her room and wandered in. She assessed the situation and calmly took the phone from Rose's loose grasp. "Hey traveling buddy (inside joke/looonnnngg story, just go with it please), what's shakin' bacon?" Yes, we are super mature and rhyme things. 'No prob, bob' is frequently used in our household as well, just a heads up. For the second time I explained my situation and to her credit, Alice only giggled a little bit. Then she pointed out how stupid I must look and that I'm only making myself later by talking to them instead of getting my butt to class. "But!", I whined, "They are all going to look at me and I'm going to look rude and stupid!" She snickered a bit, and then departed this bit of wisdom, "Any stupider then you look right now hiding in a hallway?" …damn. I hate when the older girls are right. Rose had sufficiently calmed down enough to bellow in the background, "Just get into your class already!" "Ugh. Fine. Whatever. I hate you guys. Bye." *click*

As I'd anticipated, walking into a class 30 mins late was frowned upon. Walking into a class that has enough students to take up the Forum classroom? Major League Embarassing. To heighten my feeling of awkwardness, I had to climb over a couple people as it was theater seating and the only available seats were scattered in the middle. Did I mention that while I was doing my best to find a seat and disappear as quickly as possible, the teacher found it necessary to launch into his lecture about how tardiness was unacceptable and rude, to both him and my fellow students? No? Well, welcome to the joys of being me! After that, majority of the day passed quickly thank God. I found out that I did have one friend in one of my classes. Her name was Angela and she was in my Speech class. We'd met during orientation a month ago and had exchanged numbers. We'd hung out a bit, and surprisingly, we really clicked. We both had military backgrounds and got along really well. She was as outspoken and in your face as I was timid. She was "fun sized" as she called herself at about 5' 4", but compared to my 5'11", most people are significantly shorter. She is curvy and unapologetic about it, with a force of personality that hints at her having gone through a lot to end up knowing exactly who she is. Both of us don't normally "click" with people, but we met and got along famously. She helped me laugh at myself when I told her about my morning and after talking with her, both during class and after, I was in a much better mood as I drove home.

I walked into an empty apartment, since both Rose and Alice had classes that went from the afternoon to the evening. A quirk of mine, one of many, is that I dislike silence so the first thing I did was turn on music on my way to my room to drop my stuff off. After that, I wandered into the kitchen and wondered what I was going to eat. Now, I love to bake and I'm an alright cook, but I'm a lazy cook so if I don't have to cook, all the better. I remembered that we might still have a slice or two of pizza left from our 1st Annual Girl's Night to Say Goodbye to Summer. Yes, my sisters and I make up random reasons to have fun. There was already talk of Tequila Tuesdays, Footies Friday (where we have a sleep over in the living room complete with Ben and Jerry's and footie pajamas we found in sears; mine have duckies on them), Siesta Sundays, etc. Anyway, I opened the fridge intent on unearthing that last piece of pizza and found a saran wrapped plate with a note on it. I pulled it out and read: "Hey sweetheart, I'm sorry you had a rough start this morning and hope your day got better. Rose didn't really mean it, just ignore her. I made dinner early since I figured none of us will want to cook after we get home from school. I love you very much Bell, and I'll see you soon! ~Ali". Did I mention how much I love that girl! She is the best. She balances Rose and I out and her innate goodness helps me try to be a better person. While I began scarfing down the fabulous fajitas she made, I settled down on the couch to wait for my girls. I channel surfed on the TV for awhile and stumbled upon a new show called Army Wives. This intrigued me, as La (my nickname for Angela) and I had talked about it earlier today and she'd given it her highest recommendation. I settled in for a bit and watched the hour long premiere. It wasn't immediately griping, but it intrigued me and by the end I knew I was going to have to keep up with it.

After that, nothing really grabbed my attention, so I turned off the TV. While I was still thinking about the show and all our deployed soldiers, a song came to mind called "Letters from Home". I had been humming along to it while I'd changed from my day's clothes into my comfy yoga's and old high school t-shirt. The tv show had made me think about how hard it would be to be away from home in a strange place, missing all those you know and love at home. I grabbed my laptop and Googled "military pen-pal' , and after searching a couple sites, found one called Soldier's Angels. After reading all of their rules and guidelines, I started reading the personal stories; that sealed it for me. I read one about a young man who was adopted by a family, and they helped him through his deployment with their letters and packages. I signed up and anxiously awaited the email that would give me my military pen pal. Ten minutes later, as I heard the happy chatter of the girls as they opened the door and came in, I clicked on the new email in my inbox.

"Dear Bella,

Thank you for joining Soldier's Angels! We appreciate your commitment and thank you for your donation. Your soldier will depend on you to write him, so please remember your commitment to writing him a letter at least once a week, though we encourage you to shoot for more than that (and emails don't count as actual letters, we want them to have something for Mail Call). Also, you've committed to sending a Care-Package once a month, and you can visit our store for pre-made packages or visit our site for ideas on his to customize the package for your soldier. Please remember that, if at any time and for whatever reason, you don't think you will be able to fulfill your commitment please contact us so we can reassign your soldier. Best wishes!

Your Soldier: Specialist James Smith

Oh boy. This had seemed like such a good idea…what had I gotten myself into?