CPR

Two: "Forever?"

*The very next day.*

"Poppy. Poppy. Poppy. Poppy. Poppy. Pop-"

"Shut it, you little squirt! I'm getting up!" I grunt out, grumpily.

"Well wake up then. You have to take me to school today, Popsicle," Luke cheers.

I grunt again, then push him off. His weight leaves my body and a thud follows from his impact with the floor. Despite me not seeing the sight, I smirk to myself as a form of victory.

Luke huffs to himself while he picks himself up. Once he's up, he stomps his way out of my room, opening the door then slamming it on his way out. The noise caused by the slam surprises me. The result of this? Me on the floor, in a heap.

Another grunt leaves me, as I pick myself up from the floor. I toss my blankets back onto my bed, then start squealing as the cold wood floor greets my feet. I skip over to my desk, reaching out for the pair of fuzzy socks that rest on top. I rest on the surface of the desk and pull my feet up, placing my socks on. Once the fuzzy socks are on, I walk to my dresser and grab my hairbrush.

Brushing my hair proves difficult for the first couple of seconds when I realize that my hair is still in a messy bun. I huff at myself, reaching back to pull the scrunchie out of my hair. Brushing my hair proves much better, now that my bun is out. After a minute, all the knots are out, and I can move on to eating breakfast, then getting ready. I head out of my room, moving down the hall to the kitchen, thinking about what cereal I can eat for breakfast.

Luke is already in the kitchen with two bowls and two spoons, with the milk on the island counter. His grin is wide, almost pleading. I shake my head, then reach up above the fridge for the Lucky Charms. Luke jumps up excitedly but calms down when I give him the look. I walk over to the island and pour both of our bowls full of Lucky Charms. We sit next to each other and begin the breakfast race; Who can finish the breakfast first? We can only do this when both parents aren't home because they fear we will choke and kill ourselves.

They're not wrong, we would both die of stupidity if they didn't sign me up for CPR and those kinds of things.

Which is very convenient that I start thinking of this while trying to win the breakfast race because Luke starts violently coughing on his cereal. I look over and see bright blue crossing over his face. I bolt up, cereal and milk dripping down my chin, and pick Luke off of his stool. I bend him forward and start the five back blows between his shoulder blades with the heel of my hand. He doesn't stop violently coughing and the color of his face has gotten darker. I bent him up a little bit and form my hand into a fist at his abdomen. I begin performing quick, rapid thrusts with my fist upwards into his abdomen, waiting to see if the food comes out. I don't see any food coming out, so I do another five back blows. On the fourth back blow, his food comes out.

A sigh of relief comes flooding out of me. I stay behind Luke and pat his back until he waves me off.

"No more breakfast races for a while?" Luke coughs.

"No more breakfast races," I confirm.

He nods, then moves back to finish his breakfast. I move next to him, both of us eating normally now. We finish up after five more minutes, getting up to wash our bowls and spoons in the sink. Afterward, Luke heads to his room to find his sock that he misplaced, somehow, and I head back to my room to get ready. I head to my closet and pull out a Jurassic Park shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and a scarf, just because. Tossing the clothes onto my bed, I walk over to my dresser to grab underwear, socks, and a bra. Placing the undergarments on first, I walk back over to my bed and pull my shirt on over the neon yellow bra. I adjust my shirt, then reach over for my jeans just to jump and shimmy into them. I wrap the scarf around my neck after I do my squats to make sure my jeans are on comfortably.