Sizzling Fire • AM •

22; Game Day

♛ Brady Manning ♛

As my eyes fluttered open, I felt the sting of the winter sunlight burning my irises. I can't believe I forgot to shut the curtains. I was so tired because I hate waking up so early when I don't have school. Austin was picking me up at nine thirty, so I set my alarm for seven to give me enough time to wake myself up properly, and then get ready in time. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my makeup free eye, then got up and sluggishly made my way to the bathroom to start my daily routine.

I made sure to add concealer under my eyes, to hide the dark bags that had formed through my lack of sleep. I was up until at least two last night texting Austin about how exited I was for today. Also, the night before that, I stayed at Austin's again, and we didn't sleep a wink.

Today I was finally going to see the Cowboys for the first time ever. My heart swelled with love for Austin, as he had organised these tickets for me, and I couldn't be more thankful for everything he's done. He's just too perfect.

Once I had finished putting my hair in a ponytail, and agreed that I looked somewhat presentable for eight in the morning, I made my way downstairs in my pyjamas to make some breakfast. My parents would be waking up soon, and I wanted to make them a special Thanksgiving breakfast to make up for the fact that I wasn't going to be spending the day with them.

I took out the bacon and sausage from the refrigerator, as they had been taken out of the freezer the night before, and then proceeded to take them out of their packaging. I turned on the gas and placed six sausages in the pan, then six rashers of bacon in another. I made sure that the gas was set correctly, then got three eggs from the fridge and placed them in a bowl. I was going all English Breakfast mode, thinking that it had been too long since I last cooked a proper breakfast. I usually just ate cereal and toast, sometimes, only a piece of fruit if I was running late.

I cracked the eggs in to the bowl, being cautious not to get any of the shell in with the yoke. I whisked them all together, and put the bowl in the microwave which I set for one and a half minutes. With a spatula I turned over the sausages and bacon so that all sides would cook, and then got some bread out from the bread bin. I dropped three slices in to the toaster and pushed down the lever on the front.

As I pressed start on the microwave for the eggs, I heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked at the clock which read eight thirty, to make sure I had enough time before Austin came, to eat my breakfast and put my clothes on.

"Morning honey," my mom whispered tiredly, and came over to help with breakfast. She took the toast out of the toaster once it popped up, buttered it and placed it on the plates set out.

"Morning mom." I greeted. I heard the beeper of the microwave which meant that the eggs had cooked. I took the bowl out and scrambled it with a fork before scooping three equal portions on to our plates, and topping it with cheese. I may have put more on mine, but nobody has to know.

After all the contents of our breakfast were placed on to plates, my mom called for my dad to tell him it was ready. It was a feast for the eyes and a certain delight that I couldn't wait to devour: soft scrambled eggs, dotted with cheddar cheese, two juicy sausages; lightly coated with brown sauce, a slice of whole grain bread; coated in butter, two rashers of bacon, and ice cold Florida orange juice; which had become my latest craving since buying it from Kroger three weeks ago.

As a family we sat down and talked about our plans for the day, whilst devouring my breakfast. I burst with pride knowing that I had successfully made an edible breakfast. Finishing off the last bit of scrambled egg, I received a text message;