The New Girl at Camp

I

A sudden pressure on my shoulders caused me to jolt upright, and almost slam my head into the thing that woke me. As startled as I was, I quickly calmed down when I saw exactly what that thing  was. A pair of  saphire blue eyes peered streight at me. A girl with messy midnight-brown hair was grinning at me.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey~" she said in a sing-songy voice.

"Get off." I moaned and tried to push her off of me but failed.

"I mean it, mom made eggs and bakon."

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, wich was apearently taking too long. 

"Well, what are you waiting for, lets go eat!" 

"Melody, I cant get up untill you get off of me.." I giggled.

"Oh, right." she quickly climbed off of me, partily dragging me out the door with her. 

We clumsily 'snuck' down the stairs, past the hall, and into the kitchen to get to our seats at the table. The smell of bakon and eggs whifting through the air caused my stmoch to growl. Mom turned and looked at us with two plates in her hands and a kind smile on her face.

"Good morning girls." she handed us the plated and we both started digging in. Mom dished herself a plate and ate too.

At one point during breakfast, mom told us a joke that made Melody laugh so hard milk came out of her nose.

 Once we cleaned up and finished eating, mom made us go get dressed.

"We could wear our striped shirts this time." Melody suggested.

"But we matched outfits yesterday." I was currently digging through my shirt drawer, "And you threw mine in a mud puddle a two days ago, remember? It hasn't gone in the washer yet."

"Are you sure that it was me? I mean, there have been rumors going around that there is this girl who looks just like me playing on our street." she smirked.

"Yeah, 'cause I threw my own shirt in a puddle." I retorted sarcastically.

"You never know~" she added a little tune at the end to try and edge me on.

"No, I'm still going to blame you." I pulled a dull blue t-shirt over my head. Melody found a red tank top with black swirl designs and threw it on quickly. We both put on some black pants and convers.Then headed down stairs.

There was music coming from down the hall. "Looks like she is painting again."

Melody headed down the hall and I followed, "Why else would she be in her studio?" melody questioned.

Once we got the room, I opened the door. The walls of the room were covered with paintings (some finished some not),and pictures either taken with her camera or printed offline for inspiration. The floor had a few canvases stacked flat as to make a table. Some of the surfaces had paint tubes and mixing trays scattered on them. In the middle of this hurricane of art supplies was the eye of the storm. Mom was standing at an easel, busily stroking colors onto a canvas with a mixing tray in her left had, paint brush in her right, and a paintbrush tucked behind her ear. Her shirt was covered in paint that had been collecting for a few years. Don't get me wrong, she washes that thing a lot, paint just doesn't always want to wash out of clothes.

I walked up behind her as Melody looked at some of mom's other works.  Mom looked up from her work and smiled at me before going back to painting. That was the first time I noticed the paint brush sticking out of her mouth like in those French movies when the guy has a rose in his mouth.