Lights, Cameras, Maze Runner! (completed)

twelve (final chapter)

"Kelsey, wake up!" a voice giggles, nudging my shoulder with force.

I open one eye to see Mallory, wearing a pair of shorts and a crop top with a floral print. She's peering down at me. "It's noon, sleepyhead! I've been awake for two hours already! I even went to the store and got us pancake mix!"

I sit up in my bed. "You let me sleep in till noon?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yeah. Your parents left us a note on the table, saying how even though they're very happy to have you back, they still have to go to work. Get up so we can make pancakes!"

"I'm surprised I slept in this late," I say, walking into the bathroom.

"Well, we didn't go to sleep till 4:30. It's pretty understandable. Alright, I'll be downstairs!"

I give her a thumbs-up before closing the door and going through my morning routine. Downstairs, Mallory has the little radio my mom uses turned to the classic rock station, and Queen is playing from the speaker. She stands over a Pampered Chef mixing bowl, cracking an egg.

"Please tell me you haven't hurt yourself making pancakes," I plead, walking into the kitchen.

She's stirring up the contents of the mixing bowl. "No, not yet. I just have to mix up my batter here and then we're ready to cook!"

"Alright, let me get out a frying pan." I reach into the cabinet and pull out two pans. Mallory raises an eyebrow at me, confused at the two pans I have.

"Well, this way, we can make ourselves huge pancakes at the same time!" I say.

She nods. "Oh, Kelsey. That is why you should've been valedictorian."

Ten minutes later, we sit at my dining room table, drenching our pancakes in pure Vermont maple syrup.

"Mallory, calm down! No one's gonna take it from you!" It looks like her goal is to finish her food before I do. We've only been sitting at the table for two minutes, and she's almost halfway through her pancake.

She giggles as she swallows her latest mouthful. "Sorry! It's just so good, and I'm so hungry! Hey, maybe I should try being a chef at the Waterfall."

I smirk at her. "And I should try out for the women's NBA. I don't want to see the Waterfall burnt to the ground."

"Hey, I wouldn't burn the restaurant down!"

"Need I remind you of why you're no longer allowed to cook here or at your house unsupervised?"

She looks down at her plate sheepishly. "No."

Once, when we were fourteen, Mallory was toasting cinnamon bread one morning in my kitchen. I was in the bathroom and my parents were at work. Somehow, the fire alarm started going off, and the firefighters were at my house in five minutes, with their hoses and everything.

"I don't know what happened! I was just toasting bread and the toaster started smoking!" Mallory had squealed.

"Then why didn't you unplug it?" I sneered.

"I don't know! I panicked!"

Looking back on it now, it is a pretty funny story. However, my parents have banned Mallory from ever cooking in our home at all or from cooking in her own home unsupervised. It's been five years, and the rule is still in strict effect.

We finish our breakfast talking and laughing. After, we do the dishes, like we always do. Mallory and I take turns washing and drying.

When we're done, she checks the time "Kels, it's almost one. I have to shower and go get my uniform from my house. I'm gonna cut out, meet you at work?"