The Lucky One

Chapter 38

Copyright (c) akm

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Chapter Thirty-Eight:

Ever So Slowly

When I wake the next morning, there was automatically a bright smile spread across my lips.  I knew I'd be excited for today:  the dance.

            Instead of my usual refusal to move, I push the blankets aside and bounce into the shower.  I wash all the icky sleepiness from my eyes and get my body out of its trance.  As I step out with a towel wrapped around me, a good feeling reached up through me. 

            Today I choose a pink shirt that hugs my stomach and skinny jeans, taking some extra time to yank them onto my legs.  With a few easy strokes, my hair is shining and straight like a curtain of dark brown.  It would return to its normal rusty color and slight waves as soon as it dried.  I just put on a pair of socks for now, loving the softness against my feet as I wander the halls of my house to the kitchen.

            Rachel's downstairs sipping her coffee, looking at her phone at the table.  The sun's still not entirely up yet, but somehow I am.  My feet drag with laziness as I make my way to the coffee maker, a yawn escaping. 

            "You look like you just awoke from the dead," Rachel laughed.  "Why are you up so early?  Don't you usually wait for Nathan to come wake you up?"

            I pulled a cup down from the cupboard and poured myself some coffee, yawning out, "believe it or not, this is from excitement."

            "Excitement?" She laughed again. 

            "Yes, this is excitement to me at six in the morning."

            I grabbed the bottle of French vanilla creamer and dumped a bunch into my cup, took a sip, and put the bottle away.  Following my usual routine, I made myself a gourmet, five-star meal of Lucky Charms and sat beside my step-mother.  I saw the blue label on her phone from the corner of my eye, and realized she was checking her Facebook this early in the morning.  What would someone post this early?  "Just woke up"?

            "I'll be home later if you'd want help with getting ready for your dance," Rachel told me, setting her phone down and leaning back in the chair. 

            "Okay."          

            We shared a small silence, and it started to get a little awkward because she was just staring at me eating.  There was a perfectly good dark back yard she could look at, what kind of sight would I eating my cereal like a pig be?

            "Do you remember when you first started riding your bike in the road out front with Nathan?" she said softly, almost to herself.  "He was trying to help you, but you kept falling off and you gave up.  You ran inside to the kitchen and I was there placing some cookies on the cooling rack.  You thought I wasn't looking, so you quickly grabbed two and bolted back outside to share with Nathan, and then you tried your bike again and you did it."

            I wiped the milk dribbling from the side of my mouth and smiled at the memory.  I did actually remember that.  I think I was five or six. 

            "You ran back inside to find your dad and you excitedly told him, 'daddy, daddy, I rode my bike!' and you went to show him but you skinned your knee.  I gave you a cookie to make you feel better."  She shook her head slowly.  "I'm sorry, that was probably weird.  I just randomly thought of that."  She chuckled a little nervously.