🍂 Twenty Two

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Annie woke up to sunshine seeping through the window of the chic guest bedroom, and the smell of maple and cinnamon wafting up from downstairs. It was obviously far past Jack's breakfast time, so she knew the source was either Cliff or one of the girls--she guessed the former, since the latter were most likely fighting hangovers of varying degrees. As she sat up in bed, her own head felt heavy and thumped dully, though her headache was from crying, not alcohol.

The memory of last night with Cliff made her want to lie back down, pull the covers over her head, and stay there for the rest of her life. She actually cried in front of him. What must he think of her? Not only too unappealing to get approached at a club, but pathetic enough to cry over it. It was so embarrassing, she thought. Just plain embarrassing. 

That embarrassment fought a battle against her stomach to keep her in bed--and to her surprise, lost. The aroma of a mystery breakfast was just too enticing too ignore. She got up, freshened up, and realized she had nothing to change into but the dress from last night.

That wasn't going to happen. As far as she was concerned, she'd never fool herself into wearing it ever again. It'd either sit in the back of her closet for the rest of eternity, or she'd get some sense and donate it to Goodwill.

She guessed it didn't matter if she was in her pajamas. Cliff had seen her in them last night anyways, in much worse of a state. She at least wasn't on the verge of tears this morning.

Annie headed downstairs, following the scent of food that lured her, coaxing her even through her shame. When she entered the kitchen, she at least felt better about her attire--Gabriela was sitting in the breakfast nook in a nearly identical outfit, wrinkled from sleep. But she still looked bright and radiant as ever, smiling up at Annie over her plate of pancakes, fruit, and whipped cream.

Cliff turned around from his place at the stovetop, and gave her a warm smile that made her insides do somersaults. "Morning. I hope you like pancakes?" All she could do was nod, and he motioned to the nook. "Sit down, I'll make you a plate."

Annie managed a "Thank you," and did just that, sliding in across from Gabriela, who gave her a knowing grin. When her eyes flickered down to Annie's shirt, it grew.

"Red View High Music Department," she read aloud. "Cliff, is that your old shirt?"

He glanced over, looked at Annie for a second before turning back to the stove. "Yeah. I haven't seen that in a long time."

Gabriela's eyes went wide as she motioned to her excited face while he wasn't looking. It took Annie a minute to decipher the words she was mouthing and why she was pointing to her cheeks. He's blushing.

Annie rolled her eyes. With him turned away from her it was impossible to tell--not that she believed it, anyway. Gabby was just trying to get her hopes up.

"You're up earlier than I expected," Annie changed the subject. "No hangover?"

"I know my limit." Gabby shrugged. "But my feet are throbbing from those shoes. Are you sore?"

"My feet, yeah. Legs, just a little." There was no point mentioning her headache--the girls didn't need to know about her millionth insecurity-meltdown. It would only lead to more guilt, because they'd do their best to cheer her up and convince her there was no need to be insecure, and she'd feel bad when their efforts were futile like always. 

Gabby looked up at Cliff with a smile as he walked over, placing a plate and a glass of water in front of Annie. "Annie's a good dancer. A natural, I think. You should come with us next time."

Annie restrained herself from kicking Gabby under the table as she picked up her fork. "Thanks, Cliff."

He held her gaze for a second, nodding with a smile before moving back to the stove. "I've never been clubbing, so I doubt I'm much of a dancer."

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