The first thing I hear are loud bangs. My eyes open fast, and they look around the room frantically, wondering where the shooting's coming from. Before I can shake Jules up, Mom's voice calls out, "Get up, girls! I'm not going to let you two sleep in all day."
I groan loud enough for her to hear. "For God's sake, I thought someone got a hold of a gun!" Jules stirs at the volume. She grumbles something, but I can't understand her.
Laughter comes from the other side of the door. "Come on!" Footsteps follow, and I slowly get off the bed. Jules is still holding onto me, like last time.
I pull her hands off me and plant a kiss on one of her palms. She makes a happy, but sleepy, noise as I search for the meds. I've barely put the cap back on when Jules gets up as well. She rubs her eyes before mumbling, "Good morning."
"Ditto." Half-awake now, I notice the rumpled jeans Jules is still wearing from yesterday. "Want me to get you a change of clothes?"
"Depends," is her answer.
"On what?" Jules gives me a suggestive wink, and I shake my head. "I'm not helping you get dressed."
She gives me a disappointed look. "What good are you then?" she asks jokingly. I dig up some sweats from my dresser and hand them over. Jules puts the shirt over her, comparing the size. "Man, you just don't care about how you look," she comments.
"Hey, it's not like anyone's going to see me in them."
To give Jules some space, I change in the bathroom, where the mirror is still steamy from Nancy's shower. I come back out of the room, still tying my hair up into a loose braid. Jules is gone from my room.
I go downstairs to find the car keys are gone. I doubt Nancy drove herself to college; it's the weekend. She probably went to a friend's house.
Mom's reading something from her tablet as she sips from a huge mug of coffee, something she rarely gets the chance to fully enjoy. Jules, now having to step carefully to avoid tripping over the pant ankles, pulls out a pan. She cracks the eggs after the butter's been melted in the heated pan. I watch as she looks through the spinning spice rack next to the stove, making me wonder what hell would taste good with runny eggs.
"Callie, I have to go run some errands," Mom says, not looking up. "As much as I don't want to leave the house, there are some things we need around the house. It's alright if I leave the two of you here, yes?"
I nod. "How long are you going to be gone?" I ask. Jules makes some sound effects as she flips the eggs, and quite perfectly, judging her imitation of the victorious Octodad noise.
Slugging down the last of the (hopefully lukewarm) coffee, Mom answers, "At the most, an hour." She gets up and opens the dishwasher. Realizing that it hasn't been empty from last night, she turns to ask me, "Can you do me a favor and empty this?"
"Sure." Jules puts the pan to the next burner over and starts opening some random cupboards. "Jules, if you need a plate, I'm going to empty the dishwasher anyway. It'll be one less dish for me to deal with."
Jules pauses. "Oh yeah." She gets out a plate from the washer and scoops her breakfast on it. She doesn't say anything else, but I think it's because Mom's presence is scaring her a little. That's got to be a first right there.
Mom grabs her purse. "While I'm gone, I expect the house to be still standing straight, and free of any human sacrifices," she says. With that hanging in the air, Mom exits through the front door, leaving me and Jules alone in the house.
Giving me a weird look, Jules gestures the door. "Did anything she said actually happen before?" she asks.
I shake my head. "She watched too many horror movies when Nan and I went through that phase at the same time," I explained. "The many trips to the theater were enough to convince Mom that we can't be trusted to organize a 'Family Movie Night' anymore."
Jules laughs as I start emptying the machine. I set a single plate aside for myself, after catching a whiff of Jules' breakfast. "What kind of spices did you put in it?" I ask.
"Mostly paprika," she replies.
Now it's my turn to give her an odd stare. "You mean the red stuff on deviled eggs?" She nods. "How can you stand that?"
"You're lucky I think you're cute," Jules grumbles. "I rarely tolerate people who diss on my dish." She shovels a piece in her mouth.
I close the dishwasher. Grabbing the lone plate, I turn on the burner and place the recently-used pan over it. I try my best to ignore Jules' smug look as I pick up the paprika and more eggs from the carton. She puts her now-empty plate in the sink and hugs me from behind as I attempt to reenact what she did earlier.
"I can get used to this," Jules says, placing her chin on my shoulder.
"Get used to what, exactly?" I ask, expecting a somewhat sweet response.
"Watching you fail miserably as I enjoy the one-sided hug."
"You keep this up, and I won't let you touch me for the rest of the day," I warn.
"Fine." Jules stays quiet, with the exception of telling me my eggs are starting to burn. Several times. She eventually reaches to the point where she can't stand just watching me. "You know what? Move. You're ruining perfectly good food."
She shoves me aside. "Excuse me, who's the one distracting the other with back-hugging?" I demand. "You can't blame me for 'wasting food' when you're all warm and mushy with me."
Jules ignores me as she attempts to salvage the good parts. She slides the eggs on my plate and presents it to me. "You're welcome," she says. "Now eat."
I roll my eyes, but comply. After taking a bite, I can understand a little on the unusual ingredient in common breakfast. Jules makes herself busy by playing with my phone when it buzzes. She looks disappointed, telling me that she tried to get in the phone but was blocked by the passcode screen. I learned the hard way to never leave my phone unlocked around the house, especially since Nancy hasn't moved out yet.
"What was it?" I ask, nearly done.
"It was a text," Jules replies.
We switch objects, and I thumb down the password and log in.
May: Wanna meet me at the cafe?
Callie: Sure. When?
After several minutes:
May: In an hour.
"What did they want?" Jules asks.
"May wants me to hang out," I say. "Is it okay if you're dropped off at your house at all today?" When Jules gives me a questioning look, I expand, "Do you need a text from your family before you can go, or what?"
"Oh. I can go anytime I want. I think they just don't want me sleeping alone in the house."
"You're sixteen," I point out.
She nods. "Yeah, try telling them that. I'm still the child with a coloring obsession to them."
"Awww, I should have picked up a coloring book and some crayons before I drove us here," I tease. "What kind do you like, My Little Pony or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"
Jules' jaw drops. "I find that offensive and mean!" she exclaims as she smacks me on the arm.
"Why?"
"You're forcing me to choose," she huffs.
"Really? That's what you're concerned about?"
"Well, when you say that . . ."
We look at each other before bursting into laughter. By the time we've calmed down, I snake an arm around Jules. "You're going to be the death of me by the time the school year's over," I say.
"Death of what, laughter?"
I nod. "I'm probably going to be the first."
"No, there are other people before you," Jules corrects. "There are at least nine recorded deaths caused by laughter."
I pause. "Do I need to know how you know that?"
Silence. "No, I don't think you do."
"Okay, good."