Axis

august 9th

THE NEXT MORNING STARTS with a blinding light flooding my eyelids and the covers being ripped away from my body. No, not just my body, mine and Jasper's bodies. I spent the night last night.

And Jasper's arm is currently wrapped around me.

Stay calm.

"Up and at 'em, sleepyheads. Let's not forget that while you two adolescents are best friends, you are best friends with hormones. And sleeping that close together is not a good way to keep those hormones in line, might I add," the loud, cheery voice of Denise Reynolds says, forcing us to wake up.

Jasper groans and rolls over, removing his arm from my torso. "You're supposed to knock, Mom."

"Well maybe I would if you ever listened to what I say. It's nearly lunchtime; I told you yesterday that the Martinez family will be here at four and we need to get ready for them before then."

Jasper looks annoyed. "Why do we have to get ready for them?"

I sit up, and his mom shoots me a somewhat desperate look. Help me, her eyes say.

"What can we do to help, Mrs. R?" I ask, rubbing my eyes and yawning halfway through my sentence.

"Keith and I are going to work on making the house look nicer than it is, but we need stuff for the cookout tonight. I need Jasper to go to the grocery store to get everything, and you, Lexi, to go with him and make sure he doesn't screw up."

"Excuse me . . ." Jasper says tiredly, an empty threat. "How can you even screw up grocery shopping?"

His mom shoots him a pointed look. "You've done it before."

I snicker and Jasper groans, rolling over on his stomach and burying his head under his pillow. "Fine! Now leave, please," he begs, voice muffled underneath his pillow.

"They will be here at four, Jasper! You better be ready by then," his mom says sharply. "Also, Lex, your Aunt Colleen and Willie will be coming as well."

I nod at this, and then she turns and exits Jasper's door, cracking it behind her.

"Wanna sleep for another twenty minutes?" Jasper offers, glancing at me. I have to refrain from laughing at his hair, which sticks up in odd angles all over his head like a little boy's.

"Come on, J. Your mom needs us to help her get ready," I say.

He groans.

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"Hamburger buns?"

"Check."

"Hotdog buns?"

"Check."

"Coleslaw?"

"Disgusting, but check."

"How do you not like coleslaw?" Jasper asks, frowning.

"How do you like coleslaw?" I retaliate. "It's awful."

He leans forward against the grocery cart, and I take the height difference to advantage, peering over his shoulder at the grocery list his mom so graciously composed for us in her messy, slanted scrawl. "What else are we missing?"

His eyes skim the list, brows slightly drawn together in concentration. "I think just the plastic stuff and some napkins."

We weave our way to the aisle where plastic cutlery and plates can be found, and I retrieve a package of napkins while Jasper puts the other stuff in the cart. I snatch the list from his hands and skim it one last time, making sure we got everything. Mrs. Reynolds would not be pleased if we had to run back out.