Forty-Seven Uses for a Paperclip (Completed)

Chapter Fifteen: Good Morning, Doll

Chapter Fifteen

Good morning, Doll

I awake with a start on Thursday morning. I lay there under the warm sheets for a minute, puzzling over what could have awakened me, when I hear a few solid knocks coming from downstairs.

I drag myself from my comfortable bed and fumble downstairs, only running into the wall once. I look through the eyehole on the front door.

“Of course.” I say to myself, opening the door.

“Good morning!” Colton greets cheerfully, smiling broadly.

I stare at the boy on my front steps and wish murder wasn’t in the Ten Commandments.

“Ready for school?” He asks, just as happily. Then he takes in my outfit of pajama shorts and overlarge t-shirt and the smile seems to falter slightly. “Uh, I don’t think you are.”

I leave the door open and pad to the kitchen, assuming Colton will follow. There’s the click of the door being closed, a backpack being dropped to the ground, and heavy footsteps accompany mine on the linoleum kitchen floor. I grab two mugs, hand one to Colton, and pour us both a cup of coffee that Dad thankfully brews every morning. I add creamer and milk to mine and then take a large drink while leaning against the counter.

“How did you get here?” My voice is raspy from sleep.

“Walked.” Colton puffs out his chest proudly.

I take another sip. “Did you forget it’s late start?”

My words take a second to absorb, but, when they do, Colton’s grin slips from his face and is replaced with a thoughtful expression. “Is it Thursday?” He asks finally.

“Yup.”

“Oh.” His lips keep the form of the ‘o’ even after the syllable has left them.

“Yeah.”

“So,” He still seems to be struggling to comprehend this. “School doesn’t start until noon?”

“Correct.”

He looks like a boy that has been told ‘ice cream’ really means ‘liver’.

I feel a sense of pity for him, he looks so lost. So, to distract myself of this, I take another gulp of coffee. It really is good.

Colton must be thinking along my same lines because he takes a sip of his own mug. And immediately makes a face.

“What is this?” He asks, peering into the dark liquid in his cup.

“Coffee.” I hide my smile behind my own cup. He truly does look adorable, staring at the mug in his hands, brow furrowed, brilliant green eyes thoughtful. Then I realize where my thoughts are going and splutter a bit.