I stumble into the kitchen and groggily rub my eyes. I somehow managed to wake up early this morning and I'm kind of proud of myself. Not even Andrew gets up at this time. Plus, this early start means that I actually have time for a proper breakfast.
No Captain Crunch today. I'm breaking out the eggos.
The thought makes me grin as I make my way to the pantry. I'm almost halfway to the microwaveable delicacies when I catch a whiff of something. Is that bacon?
I turn to my left and my eyes land on what can only be a mirage, created by my hunger. My mother couldn't possibly be standing over the stove, spatula in hand, frying bacon and scrambling eggs this early in the morning. Could she?
No. It definitely has to be a mirage.
"Hi sweetheart. Grab a plate. Breakfast is almost ready," the realistic hallucination speaks cheerfully.
"Mom," I question, wildly confused.
She turns to look at me and frowns at my wide eyed, bewildered gaze.
"Oh, don't look so surprised," she scolds exasperatedly.
"You're cooking." I gasp, a wide teasing grin making its way onto my face.
"Yes, I am," she huffs before looking back down at the frying pan.
"I'm pretty sure the last time you cooked breakfast I was sitting in a high chair and drinking out of sippy-cups." I say as I change directions and head for the table instead of the pantry.
"Oh, it has not been that long," she scolds. "I still make breakfast sometimes."
"It's a little hard to make breakfast if you don't wake up until lunch," I scoff, plopping down at the bar.
"You are too much like your father."
"Don't blame her on me," my dad chuckles as he walks into the room and ruffles my hair before sitting down next to me.
"The both of you are up before ten? It's a miracle," I exclaim, causing each of them to roll their eyes at me.
I quickly detect another abnormality and realize their must be a specific reason they're awake so early.
"Where are you two going this morning," I ask, sniffing out my fathers fancy and incredibly strong after shave, which he only ever where's when he's wants to impress someone.
"You're father and I have a meeting with Andrew's teacher. Apparently he told Mrs. Bundy that he's dropping out of school."
"Dropping out of school," I repeat questioningly, unable to believe what I just heard.
My mother only nods as she places a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me.
Andrew has always loved school. He's the only kid in the world who actually gets excited for Mondays. Why on Earth would he want to drop out?
"Yes," sighs my mother. "We don't know why. That's what we're hoping to find out. I think that maybe it was that little rat Parker. He's always been a little bit of a bully."
"Cassie," chides my dad. "You can't just say stuff like that. The boys only ten years old."
"He's eleven," mumbles my mother in a pathetic defense.
YOU ARE READING
Comfort Zone
Teen Fiction"I'd always liked my life. It was quiet, under control, and routine. Then he came along and showed me how much more there was, how much more I was." *********** Snarky, sarcastic, seventeen-year-old Henley Baker was living life entirely within her c...
