Billie White

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I still can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Courtney said and I sighed. I placed my phone on my face as I lay on my bed, and let her carry on speaking. “You played Monopoly, exchanged drawings and ate sandwiches. Could you have at least pecked him on the cheek?”

“It didn’t feel right, Court. Plus, I wouldn’t want to kiss him, if my breath smelt of cheese.” Courtney snorted down the phone.

“Whatever, you have to meet up with him today though.”

“I will, don’t worry darling Courtney. We’ve already made plans.” Courtney squealed, and I smiled at her excitement for me.

“Billie! Breakfast is ready!” My stomach grumbled after my mom yelled, and I realized how hungry I actually was.

“Court, I’ve got to go,” I said and looked over at the clock. Ten past ten. “My mom’s calling.”

“Alright White, you have to give me a full report, on your day when you come back though,” she reminded and hung up. Quickly, I found my brown satchel sitting on the floor. I stuffed my phone, keys and purse into it, then ran downstairs my white dress billowing. The smell of freshly cooked breakfast, wrung out the drool which wanted to escape my mouth. I kept it in, my stomach rumbling and gargling for food.

As I made my way into the kitchen, I was hit with the fresh smell of bacon. I swallowed the mouthwatering scents, and spotted my mom outside. Quickly, I ran out and grinned greedily at the food that sat on the garden table. Slices of golden buttered toast, glistened and shone. The crispy brown bacon, sat in orderly lines; the oil secreting and pooling on the plate. Creamy scrambled eggs, sat in a mound on a plate. Fluffy, and secreting steam. Orange juice sat in a glass jug, the ice tinkling against the glass. 

I licked my lips at the feast which lay in front of me, and sat opposite my mom. She had her own mug of tea, and a glass of lemonade by it. “You’re not going to work?” I questioned and started helping myself to the breakfast.

“It’s Saturday, Billie,” she reminded smiling. I chuckled lightly, and nodded. I never knew, what the day was on vacation. 

“Oh yeah,” I said, and scooped a mountain of eggs on a slice of toast. I cleverly placed three bacon rashers on top. A bottle of ketchup sat by the jug of orange juice. I squirted out the thick sauce, and created an artistic swirl all over my food with it. I placed another slice of toast on top, pressed down on that sandwich and cut it straight down the middle. 

Colors and sparks exploded in my mouth, and I took my first bite. My eyes closed, as the flavors ignited my taste buds. It was soft, fluffy, crispy and tender. I swallowed down the first bite, and licked the toast crumbs off of my lips. Dropping the sandwich, I wriggled my oily fingers searching for a paper towel. “Mom, do you have any paper towels?” I asked and she nodded, rolling her eyes at my childishness. 

Swiftly, she went inside the house, and came back with a handful of paper towels. I thankfully took one from her, and wiped my hands. I poured myself a glass of orange juice, and took a generous sip. “Billie,” she said gently and I looked over at her.

“Yes, mom?”

“I can sense a tiny crush developing, on Roman.” She took a sip from her lemonade, then from her tea. “Am I right?” I sucked in my cheeks, bit my lower lip and nodded.

“Yes, you can,” I said meekly and she smiled. “It’s only quite small, but I can feel it developing.” I took another bite from my sandwich, then placed it back down.