My Cousin in the Summer

Chapter 3

"Good morning y'all! Get up! The sun's shinin' and you're waistin' daylight!"

I groaned and buried my head under my pillow as my grandpa tried getting Hunter awake downstairs. After an awkward dinner between me and Hunter, my grandma had told my two cousins and nemesis to get out of my room so I could sleep it in.

Patrick and Jeffrey stayed in the room across from mine, which was separated by a bathroom in the middle. Hunter bunked on the pullout couch downstairs, which was closest to my grandparents' bedroom.

"Leaha! Get up, you're wastin' the day," my grandpa called out, still downstairs.

I groaned but refused to move. It was way too early to get up. Way too early. I needed my beauty sleep.

A sudden jump onto my bed made me instantly get up. Patrick had landed on my bed and was now bouncing to get me awake.

"You're finally up, Leaha Marie!" Patrick said, acting like a seven year old instead of eleven. His curly, dirty blonde hair stayed in its place as he kept bouncing and his brown eyes were eager.

"Ugh," I scowled, "Stop bouncing on my bed, Patrick. You said so yourself, I'm up."

"But you're not off the bed and Grammy's homemade famous oatmeal is almost ready!!"

I instantly hurried off my bed and went for the kitchen, "I'm up!"

There was no way that I'd ever miss Grammy's homemade famous oatmeal. It was her specialty.

In record time I entered the kitchen, and a waft of brown sugar and butter greeted me. I sighed contently and watched as my grandma finished the last bowl of oatmeal and said, "Breakfast is ready! Come on and get your bowl!"

"Yes!" Jeffrey screamed and pushed past his brother, who had come into the kitchen, to get to his bowl.

"Not fair," Patrick whined, "I should be first."

"No," objected Jeffrey, "I'm already first! I called it!"

"You did not!"

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Yeah I did Patrick! I'm first!"

Patrick glared at Jeffrey and pushed past his brother to get the first bowl of oatmeal. Jeffrey pushed him back and then Patrick tackled him to the floor, their heads barely missing the oatmeal and cabinets.

"Boys! Quit it!" My grandpa shouted sternly, getting out milk and orange juice for us.

The two brothers froze, mid-tackle. My grandma sighed and shook her head, "No fighting in the kitchen. Do you want your oatmeal or not."

"Yes," they both said in unison, getting up and standing in a line.

I stood behind Patrick, and Hunter stood behind me. Patrick and Jeffrey were as straight as boards and I heard Hunter whisper, "I feel like we're soldiers waiting for food in World War two Germany."

I rolled my eyes and whispered back, "No heiling in this house."

"Very well, Commander. I'd love to disrespect the Führer."

"Well then, it seems that on the day of your funeral, I'm busy. I can't go."

Hunter smiled slightly, "haha. Very funny, thanks."

I did a short laugh, then stopped as a realization hit me. I was having a normal conversation with Hunter. A normal conversation with Hunter. There were no rude phrases or glaring at each other. This should not be happening.