12. How to Antagonize an Interrogator

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"Reese

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"Reese."

I groaned and rolled over in bed, throwing a pillow over my head.

"Reese, get up."

With an incoherent grumble, I threw my other pillow in the direction of the voice.

In a flash, the lights in my bedroom flicked on. I groaned as the light seared through my eyelids, tossing a blanket on top of the pillow on my head. The blanket was immediately ripped off of me, along with the pillow.

"Reese, get your ass out of bed or we're leaving without you."

Letting out a dejected sigh, I forced my eyes to open, squinting against the light. Cedric hovered over me, amused.

"Why are we leaving so early?" I muttered, sitting up. "It's not like we're going far."

"Because I want to get out of here before Mom gets up," he responded, making a face.

"But she'll want to - "

"I said goodbye last night by watching Dirty Dancing with her." He rolled his eyes. "If I wait until after she's awake, there'll be a long, drawn-out, awkward goodbye scene that will end with her crying, no matter how many times I remind her that I'll be home on weekends."

He had a point. Mom - and Thomas - were often overly emotional about pretty much everything. Wanting to avoid the idea of a teary goodbye scene, I finally swung out of bed, shivering in the cold morning air.

I stared pointedly at Cedric, crossing my arms. "Leave, you dolt, so I can get dressed."

He chuckled and left the room.

Thomas was sitting at the kitchen table when I entered, munching on a bowl of Froot Loops. He glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you up?" he demanded. "You're never up this early."

"I'm going to drop Cedric off at U of T with Dad, remember?" I put a hand on my hip.

"Ah, yes." His tone was dripping with the superior tone only a preteen knows how to use. "Dad made pancakes, by the way. They're by the stove."

Pancakes! Excitement rushed through me at the thought of my favorite breakfast food. Dad had better remembered to put blueberries in them this time...

I was on the subway with Dad and Cedric twenty-five minutes later, my stomach warm from the pancakes, my head still fuzzy from being forced to wake up. Cedric himself yawned every now and then - he despised early mornings almost as much as I did, though he still insisted on waking up at an unreasonable time to beat Thomas and I to the shower - thus using all the hot water.

"Can we stop at Timmies, Dad?" Cedric asked. "I think Reese could use a coffee or five."

"Ha-ha." I stifled another yawn. "You know I find coffee revolting." I turned to Dad. "But seriously, Dad, can we go? I'm craving a French Vanilla."

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