Paradox

C H A P T E R T W O

    Sleeping it off did not help.

    I slept from four-thirty P.M. to seven A.M. the next morning.

    I woke up to the electric mixer whirring in the kitchen. The foggy lens had turned into a sort of tunnel vision feeling, but that was something I could ignore a little easier.

    I yawned as I made my way into the kitchen where my sister was making something. "Morning." She said without turning around.

    "Morning. Need help?" I asked, feeling more confident in my ability to function.

    "Sure. You put the pancakes on. I want to cut the fruit and practice my hand-steadiness." Bexley moved to the side and I took her pervious spot.

    She was a spitting image of our mother, with short blond hair and acid green eyes. But she got dad's height, I got moms.

    "Don't you take classes for that?" I questioned, thinking back to the countless dinners where my sister complained about the difficulty of her labs.

    "Yes, but to practice extra is to be better than the rest of the class." She said seriously. I rolled my eyes while she turned the other way.

    "You get em' sis." I used a small ladle to pour the beige batter onto the gridle. I watched tiny bubbles appear on the top of the batter, then when it was covered, I flipped it with a green spatula.

    I watched the golden brown batter for a moment, then turned to where Bexley was studiously cutting fruit. She had a carton of strawberries, blueberries, grapes, and a sliced watermelon.

    "Are you making mom an entire fruit salad for breakfast?" I asked, plating the finished pancakes and beginning the next batch.

    "I'm using some of these for breakfast, then the rest are going into yogurt bowls for mom and I's foo prep breakfasts for the week." Bexley separated some of the fruit into a porcelain bowl, then the rest went into small containers with vanilla yogurt and granola inside.

    "That's nice. The pancakes are done." I set the plate of fluffy pancakes on the counter and turned to unplug the griddle.

    "Thanks. You and mom are going to lunch right? It sucks that I have to go to class." She sighed, leaning against the counter.

    "Yeah we are." I ignored the part about class. All Bexley does is complain about school. If you don't want to be a nurse don't go to nursing school.

    She complains about everything, and I mean everything. The fake patients, her classmates, her professors, the material, it's too hard, it's too easy.

    Like I said, everything.

    "Where are you taking her?" Bexley asked, still not turning towards me. Nothing new, Bexley has always had a one track mind.

    "I was thinking the diner she loves so much. The one right down the road." I said, grabbing the small board for eating breakfast in bed.

    I put a plate of two pancakes on a small hotplate and set it in the center of the tray. I moved the tray to the other end of the counter, where my sister was somehow still cutting fruit.

    "Let me know when you're done. I'll bring it up to mom with you." I said as I poured a cup of orange juice and put it on the left corner of the tray.

    Bexley nodded in understanding, but said nothing.

    I took her silence as the end of our conversation. I headed up the stairs to go to my room, but my peripheral vision was gone. Tunnel vision wasn't much better than fog, but at least I can see, kind of.