bare [h.s.]

Morning After

"Honey? Your phone, it's stuck to
your drool-soaked cheek," I hear
my mother giggle like a school girl,
and slowly peel my eyes open.

"Huh?" My voice is hoarse and
I glance down at the puddle of spit
on the phone screen.
She continues to stifle her giggles.
I wipe my drool on the sleeve of
my sweatshirt and frown.

"I made breakfast.
Get your lazy ass up," She says,
pulling a blanket off my legs,
"I ain't paying you to sit around!"

She's in a surprisingly cheery mood, which never happens because she's always filled to the brim with work and stress.
Even when I was younger,
I had to entertain myself with Barbies because I could never count on my mother to be
in a playful mood.

"Ooh, who's Harry?" She teases,
sliding her thumb across the screen. My eyes open wide and
I leap at her,
snatching the phone back.
I must've fallen asleep talking to him, and I read the message
sent only ten minutes ago.

Harry: Good morning xx (:
I feel my cheeks flush and my
mom clears her throat to bring my
attention back to her.

"Two x's and a smiley face?
I think that means he wants to
be your boyfriend."
I roll my eyes so hard they could
quite possibly come out my mouth.

"We're just friends. Friends can send cute morning texts.
It's in the friendship handbook,"
I say, tossing the phone on my bed.

"Oh yes, I recall. Page 234, section 14.5: 'Friends may send lovey-dovey morning texts and make out with each other'. How could I forget?" She smiles, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
She pulls me in close and leads me downstairs, where the smell of bacon hits me hard.

Just friends, I repeat to myself.