Saving The Loner

Chapter Six

It is 6am in the morning and I'm still tossing turning constantly on my double enormous bed, tring to go back to sleep. It is miserably irritating how my body decides to wake up at dawn during weekends and stubbornly refuses to get out of bed during school days. In spite of me the alarm will scream irritably such that I would leap my hand out of the blanket to snooze the alarm again and again. Only until mom takes it upon herself to drag the blanket down to the edge of the bed,letting the cold air swirl around my body and that is the only time I would wake up.

Unfortunately the weekend drew in slowly. I have no words to express how messed up my week has been. Actually messed up is an understatement. Every single lurching scenario that happened was way too much to take in for my first week. The mere thought of a long day awaiting with Tiffany and Evelyn exhausts me even further. I'm debating whether to cancel on them last minute. I could tell them mom decided we go grocery shopping and won't be back in time. Yes! I could really get away with this. 

Breathing out a huge sigh, to a reminder of  my immediate intentions to make friends this year. This is my one rule I'm determined to live up to, but no one is oblivious enough not to see how Evelyn doesn't want me around. But what the hell, I can make other friends!

With so much milling up in my head I'm surprised I eventually dozed off.

"Breakfast is ready sleepy head," mom's voice wakes me up."I made your favorite: tomato and basil omelette with toasted bread."

I toss my head up from the pillow when I hear mom mention omelette. "Yummy that's my favorite," I let out a war whoop. Eventhough my three hour sleep feels more like a lousy thirty minutes of closing my eyes. I'm happy mom was kind enough to make breakfast.

She is a good cook, my legendary home chief always pampering me with her delicious recipes. She takes after gogo whom makes the best salted stewed beef and chapatti that would stew your tummy for more. Obviously I'm headed to the right direction too, of course the is not much to do about inherited traits. We are all blessed with cooking skills. 

"You should get up before your breakfast gets cold," mom advices moving towards the widow to slides open the curtains.I narrow my eyes at the sudden sunlight peering through the lace curtain. "I will be up in a minute." I respond to her.

"Now Cat," she tells me.

When she disappears from my door, I then jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom. I try to be quick as possible since I won't let my breakfast get cold. After taking a quick shower I decide to wear black sweat pants coupled with a plain white t-shirt, just a simple way to dress moreso that I will be staying home.

''Cat!" mom calls out for me. 

"Mom I'm coming!" I shout back as I walk down through the passage into the lounge. She is curdled up on the sofa, holding a local news paper to her face whilst the television is on and a middle-aged man reads the news. 

I have almost got used to seeing her curl up on this sofa and keep busy with whatever helps preoccupy her mind. Surely I'm not the type of person to be out and about with friends. But it has always been different with her. She once was an energetic, spirited soul, always eager to try something new. A few months back now, we would be behind our yard playing tennis:dad, her and I jumping and hurling the tennis ball in the air.

Such happy memories.

I precede to the kitchen counter, where I spread margarine on two toasted slices of brown bread, slide them next to my omelette and pour coffee in a mug. My stomach complains just before I dig up on them.
Remembering my plan to ditch Tiffany and Evelyn, I quickly grab my phone from the counter and text Tiffany.