So this a a small part of From the Center of Our Universe that I just wrote and wanted to know if it made any sense. Please let me know. What I think of things, and what they actually sound like are normally two completely different things. :)
Around midnight the next night, I sat at the dinning room table wearing my pajamas; a dirty, sort of pink tank top, and blue gym shorts, my dirty blond hair pulled loosely into a pony-tail, cramming for an AP chemistry test that had crept up on me with all the drama in my world.
A knock on the glass sliding door broke the complete silence of my house. I froze in my chair as I listened to the door open and someone step inside. Robbers don’t knock first. I thought. Maybe murders do though. I pulled my chem notebook over my face, like a little kid does with their hands in an open field during hide-and-seek, if I could see them, the murderer wouldn’t see me, and move on.
“Teagan?” the murderer said, I could tell from his tone he had that grin across his face, his green eyes had to be shining.
“I thought you were a murderer,” I said, throwing my notebook in his direction.
“Why would a murderer knock before they come in?” Rio asked, placing my notebook back onto the table.
“Maybe it’s their MO or something,” I answered, still shaken. Finding out the person sent to murder you is actually just your best friend visiting at some ridiculous hour doesn’t slow your heart rate as quickly as I was hoping.
If you don't mind telling me what you're best guy friend smells like... please.