My eyes cracked open, but closed them almost immediately due to the bright light in my eyes. I groaned in annoyance when I realised my mother wanted me awake. It was a great Saturday morning to sleep in. I rolled over, away from her. I wanted more sleep. A gentle hand was placed on my shoulder, lightly shaking me.
"Stacy, dear. Breakfast is cooked!"
Knowing that I wouldn't be able to sleep in any longer, I swung my legs over the side of the side of my bed and rose to a sitting position. My mother was also sitting on the bed, her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands folded in her lap.
"G'morning mom," I said, yawning. She gave me a warm smile, her face glowing in the morning light that filtered through my blinds. "Morning. Do you want to come down and eat now? Breakfast has been waiting for about twenty minutes," she asked me.
I nodded, getting up and stretching to wake myself up. My mother, who was taller than me by about five inches, gave me a hug. "I love you Stacy," she spoke into my hair.
"I love you too," I said, reaching my hands behind my head to give her an awkward-feeling hug. She let me go and we both went down the stairs. We came up in the living room, but crossed through it into the dining room.
My spot at the little four chaired table, the one closest to the front door of the house, was pulled out and ready to be sat in. I plopped down in it at once. A steaming plate of eggs and fried potatoes sat in front of me.
My mother poured me a big glass of milk. "Thanks," I said around a big mouthful of eggs. Mom smiled again, and went about her own business. She washed the dishes, watered the hanging plants in the windows, then wiped the table down whenever I was finished with my breakfast.
"I'm gonna go get dressed, Mom!" I told her as I went up the stairs. I took an immediate left into my room. I locked the door so my father, Brad, wouldn't come in.
My walk-in closet held all of my clothing, from shoes to pants to shirts that I never wore anymore. It was Saturday, but I wasn't going to be going anywhere... So I reached for a pair of sweats. I was pulling them on when my phone rang.
I ran to the bedside table. My IPhone had lit up with my best friend Hope's contact picture. I swiped the phone and put it to my ear. "Hello?"
Crashing waves could be heard in the background. "Stacy! Man, you've gotta come to the beach today! The waves are great!" she yelled over the gusting wind. That sounded like a good idea; better than staying home all day.
I put the phone to my chest, walking out to the balcony that overlooked the living room. "Mom!" I yelled. She popped her head out of the bathroom, "Yes?"
"Can I go to the beach? Hope's there," I asked her. Mom raised one eyebrow, "You're only thirteen. I'm not sure..." I groaned, putting the phone up to my ear again. "One second, Hope," I told her.
"Alright, just come if you can." She hung up with a tap of her finger.
"Mom, please? I'll be fine," I pleaded, making my way down the stairs. I stopped halfway and started resting against the railing. Mom leaned against the frame of the bathroom door. We had a stare off for a little while, Mom battling with her mother's instinct to not let me go, and her thoughts that I was old enough.
Finally, she relented. "Alright, but take your phone and text me every hour," she told me. "Thanks!" I told her, running back up the stairs to get my bathing suit and surfboard.
After slipping on a yellow bikini, I went into our sports room. It was at the end of the hallway of the upstairs. It held all the surfboards, the skateboards, and all the exercise equipment. I found my surfboard propped up at the back of the room, right beside the treadmill.