"You say I would make a better liar..."
Meg hasn't ever trusted anyone but Collin, not since her parents were murdered almost eighteen years ago. But now she hasn't a secret, one she doesn't think she can even tell...
I hugged my pillow, curling myself into a tight ball underneath my warm layers of blankets. It was early morning, and waking up wasn't an option that I wanted to choose. Especially not when I had't fallen asleep until four, trying not to leave Josh awake all alone.
Rubbing my eyes, I pushed the blankets off me. The clock read only six thirty, so I had been out for about two hours. The last thing I remembered was leaning on Josh while trying to stay awake during The Lion King. Without any memory of trying to climb into bed, I assumed he had carried me there.
He wasn't in the living room, where the bowl of popcorn still held some kernels and boxes of candy lay empty on the rug. I gathered them all in my arms, walking slowly into the kitchen so that none of them fell.
I threw them away and started a pot of coffee. While it was boiling, I tiptoed (literally. It doesn't really make walking quieter, but it's pretty fun) over to Meg's room. The door was closed, creaking when I opened it. Josh, sleeping on the floor, didn't stir.
Satisfied that he at least could get a couple hours of rest, I pulled out some pancake mix. With only a few ingredients to add (milk, an egg, extra sugar to make it sweeter; Meg's addition) the batter was ready in no time.
Since the house chef wasn't here, I felt the urge to at least be a little bit creative. I took out the cake decorating set. We were lucky if the pancakes didn't end up burnt or tasting like something you'd find in Pompeii, and that was the extent of my cooking skills. Exactly the reason why I had no idea what the icing thingamajig was when I pulled it out, only that Meg used it occasionally to make pancake art. It was white, kind of bag-ish with an open top and pointy silver tip that whatever was in the bag squeezed out of.
I poured the batter into the bag, trying my best not to spill but making a mess anyways. Not wanting my hair to get in the way, I put it up. Unfortunately, in doing so I got a ton of batter in it, but I could deal. Until it dried, at least, then it would probably start to become uncomfortable.
Once the pan heated up, I drizzled out some batter and made a messy heart. Messy and clumpy with batter that I apparently hadn't stirred well, but I tried. Without filling it in I added a small x in the top left curve. I waited for it to brown before filling in the extra space with batter.
Bubbles started to pop on the top. I flipped over the pancake and saw my messy, though love filled heart. The smell of pancakes was already filling the small house, becoming even stronger as I made more. Fall Out Boy's triangle, Nirvana's warped smiley face. Green Day's heart-grenade, which looked pretty great, actually. My Twenty-One Pilots got a little warped, as did my Wheezer, but most turned out at least recognizable as what they were.
Josh came into the room as I was piling all of them onto a plate, his hair sticking out everywhere. He yawned, giving me a sleepy smile before taking a cup of the coffee I had set out.
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"Do you want some pancakes?" I asked, turning off the burner. I took a picture to send to Meg later and put a couple on my own plate, grabbing the maple syrup from the fridge.
He nodded, grabbing the second plate I had set up. "Sure, these look pretty good. Do you make them a lot?"
I shook my head, "No, it's usually Meg. Besides, these are from the box." I took a bite of the pancake, which was thin and darker brown than it probably should've been. "And I wouldn't speak too fast, these aren't a specialty or anything."
"They look good at least," Josh noticed the heart and grabbed it immediately. "You made one with our logo? It looks awesome!"
Trying to hide a smile, I took another bite of my pancake. "Well, I had to add it, of course. Couldn't leave the second-best band in the world without representation."
"What's the first?"
"Justin Beiber, of course." I tried to keep a straight face but couldn't, barely holding in my peals of laughter for a second after I said the words. "Grab a few, you can eat them in the car. I'll drive you home and then I have to get Meg at the airport."
He did, grabbing his shoes from the living room. "So, what do you do for a job if it obviously isn't cooking?"
I shrugged. "Odd jobs, really. I work the occasional bakery shift if I'm bored or we need the money. I write a little bit, but only if I'm in the mood. I've never been published or anything so it doesn't really do much, but the blogging site sends me a few checks. Meg's the real breadwinner here."
"And bread maker," Josh joked.
I pretended to play drums, making the sounds with my mouth. "And he makes another bad pun. C'mon, we should really get going if I'm going to get there in time. Have your stuff?"
"Yeah, all I have is my clothes. You don't have to drop me off, I don't mind seeing Meg. We can get there early so that we don't get lost in the crowd." He suggested.
We both climbed into the car, Josh getting into the driver's seat before I could protest. The sun was already starting to heat up the earth, so I opened the window. It wasn't the best day to be in a car for the majority of it, but at least I was in good company.
