Why You Shouldn't Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes

Chapter 23

Even though I had gone to bed around half past three the night before, I woke up even earlier than on usual school days. Not voluntary, of course, but because Maya bounced into my room and tugged at my covers until I reluctantly opened my eyes.

"What is it?" I groaned into my pillow.

Maya answered, with a cheerfulness that should be impossible this early: "Mommy is making pancakes for breakfast!"

"Awesome," I muttered and already felt myself drifting off again, barely able to keep my eyes open to blink up at her.

Maya nodded in barely contained excitement. "Are you having breakfast with us?"

I was about to say no in order to go back to sleep, but when I looked at Maya's hopeful expression, I nodded with a sigh.

She laughed happily and tugged at my hand. "Come to the kitchen, we can help mommy! Maybe she lets me crack the egg. I cracked an egg when I was baking cookies with Ben and his mommy last week! She said I'm a great baker!"

"Give me five minutes," I groaned.

She was silent for a while, then she said, sounding genuinely worried: "But you'll fall asleep again!"

"You can stay here and make sure I don't," I mumbled, laughing tiredly.

Maya thought about it, then she nodded and climbed onto the bed. I lifted her up and over me and she snuggled up under the covers next to me immediately, like a cat. With only about two hours of sleep in my system, it was pretty hard to keep myself from dozing off again. Maya was laying next to me, watching me closely, and every time my eyes fell shut, she poked me so I would open them again.

A few minutes later, mom's voice wafted into the room, along with the delicious smell of fresh pancakes. "Kids! Breakfast's ready."

Maya was up and out of the bed within seconds. I followed her with a little less enthusiasm and a muffled yawn.

When I shuffled into the kitchen, dad was already seated at the head of the table, reading the newspaper with a cup of tea in his hand. Meanwhile, mom was baking the last pancake on the stove. She looked up as we came in and offered us a bright smile.

I sunk into a chair and poured some orange juice for Maya and me. When mom put the plate of pancakes onto the table, Maya immediately loaded three of them onto her place.

"Honey, you won't eat that much!" mom said, still smiling.

Maya just shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, and topped them off with a concerning amount of maple syrup.

When everyone was finally sitting and quietly eating their pancakes in the typical early morning haze, I became aware of my mother's eyes studying me closely. Finally she said: "Jules, when have you been to bed yesterday? You look tired."

I sure as hell felt tired as well. Last night I hadn't paid attention to my exhaustion, the adrenaline after the kiss had wiped any thought of sleep away. Now, however, I felt like a zombie, and probably looked like one, too.

"It got a little late," I said vaguely. If they had known what I had been up to, that I had even left the house, they would have raised hell against me.

"What have you been doing?" dad asked with a frown.

Before I could answer, Maya suddenly chimed in. In her squeaky voice she declared: "Jules was here with someone he really, really likes!"

My eyes widened and I nearly dropped my knife onto the plate. Both of my parents looked between us with equally wary expressions.

"Sweety, what are you talking about?" mom asked.