The Boys Are Back in Town [Slow Updates]

Chapter Two

“London,” Savannah called out too loudly, “get up!” I mumbled an inaudible noise as she tried shaking me awake and flipped myself over the bed so that I was laying on my stomach. “Five more minutes,” I promised, lifting my head up a couple of inches to look at her and then it sunk back on the fluffy pillow.

“No!” she said firmly, yanking the soft pillow from my head. I groaned, throwing the blanket over my head and listened to her say, “Last time you said five minutes, it turned into two hours! You’re lucky that I don’t dump a bucket of water over you.”

I scoffed through the mattress at her words. “And you know dumping water on me won’t make a difference.” It was true. There could be an axe murderer running around in the house and I still wouldn’t leave the bed. I heard steady footsteps leaving the room and thumping down the stairs. At least Savannah had finally allowed me to sleep in for once. My best friend went by the phrase, “The early bird catches the worm.” I, on the other hand, told her she was free to catch any worm her heart desired as long as she allowed me to sleep. Not difficult to guess who won that argument.

My mind treasured the silence as I snuggled deeper into the blanket, reaching for the pillow that was left abandoned on the floor next to the bed. Unfortunately, the same steady thumping on the stairs returned and in less than ten seconds, my red-haired best friend appeared with a giant pancake and a can of whipped cream in hand, my ultimate weaknesses. The best thing about sleeping over Savannah’s house on the weekend is that her mom always made her cinnamon, chocolate chip pancakes. They were freaking to die for and add in the fact that I couldn’t remember the last time my own mother made me breakfast.

“I’m getting up,” I surrendered and rose up from the bed slowly, stretching and yawning in the least ladylike manner. I slid off the mattress and stood up to grab the pancake in Savannah’s hand, but the devil snatched it out of reach from me and took a giant bite out of it. “There’s more in the kitchen.” She smirked at me and skipped out of the room, down the hallway. She definitely did that on purpose.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I put on my clothes from last night, tossing the pajamas Savannah lended me into the hamper. I was probably going to sleep over her house for the majority of the summer, might as well bring some of my clothes so I didn’t have to keep borrowing, not that either one of us minded sharing clothes. In a more upbeat mood, I hummed the tune of “Come Go With Me”, snapping my fingers in perfect rhythm. In a poor attempt to spin like a ballerina, I tripped over the carpet of the hallway and caught my balance by holding onto the railing of the staircase. “That’s way you’re not a dancer!” Savannah screamed from wherever she was in the house. And that was not the first time she’s had to tell me that.

“Good morning London,” Mrs. Howard greeted me as I descended down the stairs. She was where Savannah got her looks from, looking the spitting image of her. Her dark red hair was tied up in a bun and she wore an apron over pajamas as she poured some batter on the skillet. She was just as beautiful as her daughter too, commonly getting mistaken for as sisters much to Savannah’s embarrassment. “Morning to you too,” I replied back with a grin and sat down on a stool near the counter.

Mrs. Howard knew exactly how I liked my breakfast and I loved her for it. She was the best mom ever and treated me like her own daughter which I had always appreciated. I would even get her Mother’s Day presents every year because that was how amazing she was. Out in front of me were four chocolate chips pancakes, drizzled in syrup and topped with whipped cream. To the right of my plate was a tall glass of orange juice which I gulped down immediately.

Savannah emerged from the doorway, plopping down on the stool next to me. She was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white tank top with her hair up in a ponytail. “So girls,” Mrs. Howard chirped as she flipped a pancake, “how was the party last night?” That was another cool thing about her. She didn’t mind that we went out so often  because she trusted us both to be responsible and not do anything dangerous.