Carmen

Chapter 1: Pillow Talk

Chapter 1 - Unedited

"Carmen?"

"Hmmm?" I mumbled into my pillow tiredly, burrowing closer into the confines of my warm mattress. I'd been awake since 5 am helping my manic mother cover our backyard in tissue paper, glitter, balloons and any other piece of material that seemed vaguely festive. It had been my sister's engagement party, a festivity three months in the making, and we wanted everything to be perfect. If that meant dusting living room furniture all morning and teetering on uncomfortable four-inch heels all night, then so be it.

Thankfully, after an afternoon of pool water, smoky tenderloin steaks, and mom's lemonade (mixed with a little tequila, of course), my sister's engagement party had gone off without a hitch. The whole neighborhood had crowded into our small backyard patio, bearing a variety of gifts that would help the future Antigone and Colin Vale get on with their new lives together.

Suffice to say, I was no better than a sack of potatoes by the time the last of our guest's waved goodbye and exited through our front door, but it was worth it if it meant providing Anti some sweet, long-lasting memories.

"Carmen, come on. Wake up!"

I take that back: Carmen Riviera did not deserve any of generosity, especially while trying to shake me awake from my dreamless sleep. I was beginning to regret my 24 hours of good behavior. What could she possibly want so early in the morning?

"Can't it wait till tomorrow?" I hissed, smacking her prodding hands away with a stuffed animal.

"No, it can't."

"Why don't you just talk to Colin about it?"

There was a single, resigned sigh before I could feel her shuffling towards the door of my bedroom. "Nevermind," she mumbled. 

I could suddenly feel the responsible-sister in me kicking in, willing me to lift my sleepy head and keep Antigone from leaving my room a sulking, brooding mess.

"Alright, I'm up. I'm up!" I yawned, adjusting my pillows to cushion my lower back and prevent my head from banging loudly against my headboard. Antigone, knowing she had gotten her way, scuttled towards me and launched herself on my bed. When I squeaked in response, she gave me a scolding hush before snatching away one of my pillows and squeezing it tight.

"Stuff a cork in it Carmen!" she hissed under her breath, poking out her tongue at me when I flicked her arm.

"What do you want Anti? Unlike some people-" I nudged her with my toe, "I have to wake up early tomorrow morning and walk Hemsworth to one of his stupid doggy-dates." Hemsworth was our eight-year-old greyhound, named (by mother, oddly enough) after a certain drool-worthy Hollywood actor known for his way with a hammer.  With his goofy grin and crooked gait, he was nowhere near as debonair as his namesake,but he was the family's golden child, which meant he was spoiled rotten to the core. 

"I just wanted to ask you something...something important."