Bloodlines and Betrayal

8. 🐺

I woke up the next morning with a dreamy smile plastered on my face. The memory of last night's kiss lingered like a sweet whisper, and I could still feel the electric tingle of his lips against mine. It was a moment I had only ever read about or seen in movies—the kind of kiss that made time stand still, as if everything else in the world faded away. For me, it wasn't just any kiss; it was my first. The kind of first that every girl dreams of—a magical, fairytale moment where the prince's kiss makes you feel like you're floating on air.

As I rolled out of bed, I couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. It felt as if I had been given a glimpse into a storybook romance. The way he held me, the way our lips touched—it was as if every Disney princess tale I'd ever loved had come to life. I imagined how lucky I was that my first kiss wasn't tainted by fear or discomfort. Unlike some girls who might face their first kiss with apprehension or awkwardness, I felt only joy.

After shaking off the remnants of sleep, I dressed quickly, packing my backpack and cheerbag with practiced ease. I padded downstairs to the kitchen, where the smell of breakfast was already wafting through the air. My mom was busy at the stove, Kaylie and her mom were wrangling the younger kids, and the morning chaos was in full swing.

As I entered the kitchen, I spotted Hazel, who was stuffing her cheeks with pancakes like a chipmunk hoarding nuts for winter.

"You're not going to believe this," she said through a mouthful. "Someone said we're leaving in five minutes, so I'm eating fast!"

"Hazel," I chuckled, "we've still got plenty of time. You don't need to rush." It wasn't unusual for her to be the first to finish any meal. Her boundless energy and insatiable appetite were legendary. Despite her tiny frame, she had the metabolism of a squirrel on an energy drink.

"Last time someone took my cupcake without asking," Hazel said, her eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. "I bit him. And it wasn't pretty."

I couldn't help but laugh. Mom had been less than thrilled when she had to pick Hazel up from school after that incident. The boys had gotten into trouble for teaching Hazel to bite, but they were supposed to teach her sports and basic manners—nothing too extreme.

"Hey, Hazel," I said, reaching for sandwiches to pack for lunch. "Do you want to ride with Kaylie and me today, or with the boys?"

Hazel looked up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to ride with you and Kaylie. Colton drives like a race car driver, and it scares me."

"Smart choice," Mom chimed in, her face a mask of concern. "I need to have a serious talk with him about his driving."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Ooo, is Colton in trouble? Are you going to ground him and take his car away?"

Mom sighed. "He's had three warnings already. If he doesn't improve, I'll be taking his keys away today."

I couldn't help but chuckle at Hazel's dramatic reaction. "So who's driving today?"

"Since I'm tied up with Harvest Fest ideas and can't drive," Mom said, "you can use the minivan or Troy can drive. I'd rather not have Hazel in a helmet if Colton's driving."

"BOYS!" Hazel shouted up the stairs. "Come on! We don't want to be late! I have a lunch date with a boy at school!"

I exchanged a look with Mom as Colton and Troy came barreling down the stairs. Colton was pulling on his football hoodie, and Troy was busy with his phone.

"You've got a date with a boy?" Mom asked, looking half horrified. "You're only four years old!"

"It's a lunch date," Kaylie clarified. "You know, like the play dates we used to have. It's adorable."