Behind My Sister's Back

Chapter 2: The New Head Chef

-- Ali's POV --

                I woke up to a throbbing pain in my head. Forcing my eyes open, I glanced around my surroundings, momentarily confused. I was on the floor, my legs tangled in the sheets.

                Had I fallen out of bed?

                Then Summer's face swam into my mind and I remembered that I didn't sleep in a bed at all. I had slept on the couch.

                Hissing in pain, I stumbled to my feet and checked the clock. It was only 5 am! Knowing that I could never sleep after being woken up, I walked sluggishly to the bathroom, muttering insults to Summer under my breath.

                I could hear her snoring as I passed my bedroom and entered the bathroom, which added to my irritation. Of course, I had to put up with her because I would be a bad sister if I didn't, but she didn't make it easy, did she?

                And every time I thought of that argument we had, years ago, I felt like dragging her out of the apartment by her hair. She deserved it, and that's what most people would do. But no, I had to be the better person and forgive her.

                And even now, after being really kind to her and letting her stay, she still treats me like dirt on her shoe!

Thinking about that argument almost a year and a half ago, I brushed my teeth, washed my face and spent about half an hour brushing all the tangles out of my light brown hair and then tying it in a loose plait. I took one last look in the mirror and smiled faintly.

                By the time I was out, it was nearly 6. Carefully, I sneaked into my room and tip-toed towards the wardrobe. I searched for my uniform, grabbed it, and was out of there like a shot.

                "Hey Ali."

                I jumped, squealing, and then whirled around to face Gina. She smirked at me.

                "Gee!" I gasped, my hand flying to my heart, which was pounding against my chest. "Don't do that!"

                She raised her eyebrows. "You know you don't have to sneak around her, don't you?"

                "Yes, I do!" I said indignantly, following her into the kitchen and plugging in the toaster. "You don't know how she can be in the mornings."

                She frowned at me but didn't reply.

                "Toast?" I asked, holding up the bread.

                "We're chefs. We can do better than that," she pointed out.

                "Assistant chefs," I corrected her, popping the bread into the toaster. "Besides, I don't think we have time for a full – English breakfast, do you?"

                "Yeah, we do," she said, checking her watch. "The restaurant doesn't open until 8."

                "I know," I said, opening the fridge at taking out a bottle of milk. "But I want to get out of here as soon as possible. If she wakes up, we'll have to make breakfast for her too."

                "She can't make her own breakfast?" Gina asked sceptically.

                "Nope," I replied, pouring out the milk into two glasses and passing one to her. "She would always make me do it, and I'm guessing Dennis cooked for her."