Unmasking MidKnight (Storm #1) || ON HOLD

Chapter 17: Pancakes With a Side of Chaos

{October 1st.}

I stare at my computer screen, the time ticking by without even a second thought. Sweat begins to bead on my forehead, my hands growing uncomfortably clammy as I reread the same sentence over and over again.

MidKnight is none other than Dravin Smith: a fellow student at Eleanor Roosevelt High School.

Groaning, I lean back against my hoard of pillows stacked up against my head rest as I rub the heels of my hands over my eyes.

Why is this so freaking hard?

It's been three days since I confronted Dravin over the whole 'I know your identity' threat, three days we've officially been ignoring each other despite sharing the majority of classes together.

And I've yet to come up with a decent report over the whole ordeal. I mean, come on! Wasn't this what I was looking for? A big break? A huge Celestial identity revealing with my name on it so I can be famous and become a world class reporter!?

And not only can I prove he's a Celestial, but also that their supposed 'High Rise Detectors' don't work, seeing as he's been attending school even after they installed them and he's a Celestial. What they're supposed to keep out.

Malfunction? I'd say yes.

And yet, here I am, lounging around on my bed in my cupcake flannel pajamas at nine o'clock in the morning on my birthday, staring at my computer like I'm expecting it to write it itself.

That'd be cool.

I sigh, really hating all these conflicting thoughts that are bouncing around in my head none stop since the other day.

I'm almost wishing I hadn't discovered this.

I snap my computer screen down to close it as my door abruptly opens, heart picking up in surprise at the sudden intrusion to my peaceful morning.

"Happy birthday, sweetie!" Mom explodes as she comes bounding in my room, a huge smile on her face and already dressed for the day unlike some people I know. Cough, me, cough.

She practically skips over to me, a tray in her hands and a wonderful smell wafting in with her.

Pancakes.

She sets the breakfast tray down over my legs, immediately leaning in to capture me in a bear hug before kissing me on the side of the face.

I wipe the kiss off, giving her a goofy smile as she pulls away. "Thanks, Mom." I look down at the tray, my mouth almost instantly watering as I take in the freshly baked stack of golden-brown pancakes doused in syrup with a side of strawberries and blueberries and a topping of Whipped-cream on top.

What'd I say? Am I psychic or what?

"How's my big sixteen year-old doing this fine morning!?" She questions, perching herself on the edge of my mattress as she stares at me expectantly.

My smile almost falters as those pressing thoughts suddenly reappear out of nowhere, her words reminding me I need to figure out what I'm going to do.

Does it matter he's a superhero that may or may not be going rouge? No. Does it matter I may or may not have had a 'slight' crush on him before my dreams were dashed with the realization that he's the idiot I share science and practically all my classes with?

No. Not at all.

So why am I stalling?

I manage to keep my smile up, though I find my eyes looking away from her cheery gaze. "Oh you know, same old, same old." I dodge the question, shrugging it off like the sarcastic teenager she know me as.