[14]

Look Alive, Sunshine

It's rather common for cancer patients to have days where they feel amazing, and days where they feel as if it might be the end. 

   Skipper was no exception to this phenomenon, and awoke early as if she'd never felt more energized in her life. The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon, slipping between the blinds and illuminating the floor on which she had slept.

   She was still wearing the hoodie borrowed from Wade; the fabric was soft and smelled like detergent. Her purple hair was matted in places and her feet ached a little, but apart from that she felt unstoppable. Taking her pillow and blanket from the floor, she tossed them onto the bed and rummaged through her suitcase for something to wear. Deciding on shorts and a t-shirt worn over a swimsuit, she went to shower and returned feeling even more refreshed and awake. She twisted her hair into a messy bun and applied waterproof makeup before grabbing the hoodie and leaving her room.

   Wade's door wasn't locked, so Skipper let herself in. He was still in bed, and Charles was taking advantage of this by rooting through the dude's luggage in search of snacks.

   Winding the hoodie up like a whip, Skipper slapped it over Wade's bare exposed back. 

   "Mornin' sunshine!" She cackled, causing him to twist around in groggy surprise.

   "What the...hey! Get out!" He shouted, pulling the blanket over his head. "Who said you could come into my room?"

   "You left the door unlocked, idiot." She slapped him again, and he emerged quickly to snatch the hoodie out of her hands.

   "I'll take that back, thank you. Hey, you're not dead." He said this completely devoid of emotion. 

"Sorry to disappoint you. Get your doughy body out of bed. I wanna go to the beach."

"So go to the beach. I want to sleep in." Turning away from her, he dragged the blankets over his head once more. Skipper rolled her eyes and yanked the covers right off.

   "Last I checked, it's my vacation, not yours. So get your butt out of bed and drive me to the beach, Mister Uber Man."

   "It is so my vacation," he grumbled. But he got up anyway. At this point, Charles had made a pretty mess of Wade's suitcase and clothes were strewn everywhere. With a huff, he kicked what he could into a heap before grabbing some shorts and his favorite Cali tee.

   "You're not gonna put on swim trunks?"

   He rolled his eyes. "Not in front of you. What's wrong with shorts, anyway?"

   "Nothing. Just curious. We're going swimming, after all."

    "I never said I was swimming. I didn't even say I'd take you to the beach at the crack of dawn, and yet here I am, getting ready to take your sorry ass to the beach."

   "I'll pay you extra if you really think it's that much trouble..." Skipper tipped her head in a saucy manner.

   Wade waved her off. "Nah, that just makes me seem like a charity case when you're supposed to be one."

   "Oh, so I'm a charity case?" Crossing her arms, she leaned back slightly with some indecipherable emotion flaring up in her eyes. 

   Wade smirked. "Think about it. You can't drive, so you literally have to ask someone to take you around so you can see the world before you die."

   "But you're not paying for it. I am."

   "You're still a charity case."

   "Stop that. You'll ruin my morning mood."

   "You ruined mine first," he jabbed, wandering into the bathroom.

   "Child," she called after him.

   "Brat." He stuck his tongue out, then shut the door. Her eyes widened, mouth formed a big O. Then, she burst out laughing. Wade's voice was muffled from inside the bathroom as he hollered at her about it not being funny and that she was cruel.

   This only made her laugh harder, and he hit her with a beach towel after emerging from the bathroom. "Alright, alright, miss comedy gold. Let's get to the beach before it's full of whales and no longer pleasing to the eye. Oh wait. When you get there it won't be pleasing anyway."

   "I'm not a beached whale. I'm a mermaid. You're just a stupid barnacle. Let's go." Snatching his keys, she ran off down the hall. Wade scowled and took his time, despite realizing she could easily take a joyride if she so desired. Did he care? Yeah, kind of. That was his vehicle after all. And if she got caught, well...so much for exploring the world. 

   She'd probably get herself into an accident. 

   "Good riddance to stupid purple hair," he muttered, knowing he didn't mean it in the least. With a tight grip on Charles' leash, he grabbed his polaroid and locked the room before finally making his way to the SUV where Skipper was waiting. She'd taken the driver's seat hostage and had her stupid feet up on the wheel, crossed at the ankles. She honked the horn at Wade when she saw him, then scrambled into her usual seat when he stormed over. His anger was feigned, which Skipper supposed was probably to keep up with the "I'm not a morning person" act. She didn't understand people who hated mornings. Why waste an entire day sleeping when there was so much to do and see? Why not just get going?

   Once Charles was situated in the backseat, Wade got behind the wheel and turned the key Skipper had so kindly placed in the ignition for him. 

   "Can we get coffee first?" He grunted, casting a sidelong glare at the girl who was practically vibrating in her seat. 

   "Sure! Coffee sounds good."

   "As if you need any," he rolled his eyes, turning to glance out the rear window as he backed the vehicle out of the resort parking lot. "How do you even have so much energy, anyway? You're the one that's supposed to be dying."

   "Shut up, Wade." Her voice didn't sound so cheery now.