"Wake up."
Screwing up her face, Stevie opened her eyes ever so slightly and squinted blearily at the familiar face hovering above her own, and then craned her neck to take in the very early numbers on her digital alarm clock.
"Saturday no school," Stevie mumbled in one quick breath, pulling the bedclothes over her head, and then squealed as the sheets were promptly tugged away again.
"Miles!" she whined, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her best friend since birth gave her a put-on look in reply.
"Number one, it's Friday, so normally, there would be school," Miles deadpanned. "But luckily for you, it's summer vacation. Unluckily for you, you told my incredibly overprotective mother that we would be back at the B&B at a very specific time, which means that you now have to wake up at this ungodly hour so that we can road trip across South Dakota."
Stevie moaned and flopped back down against her pillows.
"You, Ms Donovan-Jinks, are definitely not a morning person," Miles commented wryly. Stevie squinted at him darkly.
"Bring coffee, Lattimer," she demanded. Miles reached out and grabbed her hands, pulling her back into a sitting position.
"Take a shower, get dressed, and pack up the rest of your stuff," he instructed softly. "There will be a double-shot macchiato waiting for you when you're done."
"And pancakes?" Stevie asked hopefully, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. Miles blew out a begrudging breath.
"We'll stop at Denny's on the way out of town," he murmured in defeat, leaning forward to kiss Stevie on the temple. "Now get moving."
Stevie pursed her lips together as she watched Miles exit her dorm room, and sniffed for a moment as she tried to wake up. She yawned as she gathered her things and then headed for the showers, which she found empty, though she knew that this wasn't just because of the early hour. Their junior year at the University of Minnesota had ended a few weeks ago, but Stevie and Miles had stayed on campus for a few more weeks to earn some extra credits towards their senior year classes. Stevie groaned inwardly to herself as she showered quickly, thinking of the long drive ahead. Univille, South Dakota, was just far enough away from Minneapolis to make the journey tedious, but given the remote location of the small town both Stevie and Miles had been born in, driving made far more sense than flying, and they'd definitely need the Chevy truck they shared once they got there. Stevie forewent washing her hair, instead standing in front of the row of blurry mirrors to pull her long straw-coloured hair into a low ponytail. Swiping moisturiser under her crystal blue eyes, Stevie hurried back to her room, where she found the last of her boxes gone and Miles perched on her bed, her promised macchiato in his hand. Stevie dropped her toiletries in the open backpack by the door and descended on the takeaway coffee, drinking like it was the elixir of life.
"You have a dependency issue," Miles commented, and Stevie narrowed her eyes at him over the lid of the cup.
"You either want me perky or you want me comatose," she quipped. "There is no middle ground at this hour."
Miles tried sneering at her, but he failed, a smirk spreading over his features instead. Stevie saw so much of her beloved Uncle Pete in that grin, and it made her smile as well. Sipping at her coffee, the tall blonde watched as her best friend made one last circle around the now empty dorm room, checking drawers for anything that may have been left behind, and then bent to pick up Stevie's open backpack. Zipping it closed, Miles glanced over his shoulder at his friend.
"Come on, if we have any chance of making it home before my mother sends out a search party, we have to leave now."
"Miles, Aunt Myka is not that bad," Stevie stated gently, patting her pockets to ensure her phone was in place before she shut the door behind her and followed Miles down the hall. Miles chuffed out a disbelieving laugh.
"Stevie, she has the Secret Service on speed dial!" he exclaimed. "Do I need to remind you of the high school junior year incident?"
"Ha, God no," Stevie winced, trooping down the last of the stairs and out of the front door of the dormitory. "Though you have to admit, that was a fun day."
"Right up until we ended up in the back of a police car," Miles said dryly, handing Stevie her backpack so that she could stash it under her feet on the passenger side of the truck. Stevie swung herself into the truck, still clinging to the last of her coffee.
"I need pancakes," she stated emphatically as Miles climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Are you sure you're not related to me by blood?" Miles asked as he put the truck into gear and they headed off down the street. "Because your need for food is so very similar to my father's."
"Uncle Pete taught me everything I know," Stevie grinned, peeling off the button down shirt she was wearing over her tank top and bunching it up so that she could put it under her head. "Wake me up when we get to Denny's, ok?"
"Yep, my dad definitely raised you," Miles quipped, sneering as he turned on the radio, and Stevie grinned before she curled up in the passenger seat and closed her eyes for the power nap she'd been planning from the moment she'd woken up.
Miles was gently snoring in the passenger seat when Stevie finally pulled the Chevy into the driveway of Leena's Bed & Breakfast, and even as Stevie shifted the truck into park and turned off the ignition, she took a moment to crane her neck and smile fondly at the old-fashioned building painted in shades of purple that constituted her home. Even though Miles and Stevie had spent the majority of their youth at a boarding school in Indiana, the B&B was where Stevie had some of her best memories. Stevie smiled to herself as she remembered watching football games on the couch with her Uncle Pete, and her Aunt Myka teaching her self-defence moves in the backyard, along with Miles's sisters, while Miles and Pete tossed a baseball around behind them. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Stevie lifted a hand and smacked Miles on the chest. Miles awoke with a start, glaring at her instantly.
"That was payback for this morning," Stevie grinned as Miles wiped at the line of drool on his chin. "We're home. And I would advise hurrying up before Aunt Myka tackles us right here on the front lawn."
"I wish that were a joke," Miles muttered, quickly undoing his own seatbelt and exiting the truck along with Stevie.
"She just really loves her baby boy," Stevie teased, hefting her duffel out of the tray of the truck and watching as Miles did the same.
"Myka Lattimer loves all of her children equally," Miles shot back as they fell into stride together on their way to the front door. "That includes you, Stevie Donovan-Jinks."
"And that rumour is about to be dispelled in approximately three seconds," Stevie quipped, putting her hand on the doorknob and pushing the front door open. "Hello?"
"There's my baby!"
Myka Lattimer's enthusiastic declaration was accompanied by the sound of her dashing from the living room into the front hallway, where she more or less shoved Stevie out of the way in her attempt to get to her son.
"Oof," Miles moaned, his voice muffled against his mother's shoulder. "Ma! Ma! Let go! I can't breathe."
Stevie sniggered as Myka finally unwrapped her arms from around Miles's neck. Myka was grinning from ear to ear as she pressed her hands to her son's face.
"Let me look at you," she murmured, studying Miles's features intently. "It's been too long."
The sound of Miles moaning in exasperation mingled with the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and Stevie couldn't stop the happy smile that formed on her face as Pete Lattimer descended the staircase.
"Ah, the prodigal son returns!" Pete announced dramatically, but he was grinning back at Stevie, who fell into his embrace as soon as he opened his arms.
"Hello, child who is not mine but may as well be," Pete greeted Stevie warmly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Welcome home. Now, tell me things."
"They made me cheer captain," Stevie told him, blushing furiously at how proud Pete instantly looked.
"What'd I tell you, kid?" Pete grinned, giving her shoulders another squeeze. "You're a valuable asset to that team."
"They just want me to keep choreographing routines," Stevie murmured bashfully. Pete shook his head as he rolled his eyes in bemusement.
"Don't talk it down," he told her. "Be proud of your achievements." He glanced over to where Myka was still examining every inch of her son.
"Hey Mykes, did you see? Stevie's home!" he asked very loudly and very slowly. Myka turned her head just as slowly, and glared at her husband before she finally let go of Miles's hands and walked over to Stevie to embrace her in a tight hug.
"Hello, beautiful girl," Myka murmured, lifting her hand to brush a loose strand of Stevie's flaxen hair behind her ear. "I swear, you get more stunning every time I see you."
"I've been stuck in a truck with that loser for over 8 hours," Stevie quipped, nodding her head towards Miles, who gave her his ugliest face in reply. "I am fairly certain that I am anything but stunning right now."
"Yeah, and you smell like a wet dog," Miles joked, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from his father. Grinning, he barely broke stride before he asked his next question.
"Where's the rest of the welcome party? I was expecting a louder reception than this."
"Zoe decided she'd like to celebrate her high school graduation by spending more time in Europe with your Aunt Helena," Myka stated, huffing out a frustrated breath. "As if she's not going to spend enough time exploring Paris when she goes to the Sorbonne next year."
"She'll be home in time for the 4th of July party," Pete reassured his wife. Myka rolled her eyes.
"Shiloh and Bridget still have a few days of school left," she continued, rattling off the last of Miles's sister's names. "They'll be home next week."
Stevie flicked her eyes up at the staircase, which remained empty.
"Where's my mom?" she asked tentatively, and watched as Pete and Myka winced as one.
"Sweetie, I know she said she'd be here," Myka said soothingly. "She probably just lost track of time..."
"She's at the Warehouse," Stevie said flatly. "Of course."
"Stevie..." Pete started, but Stevie was already pulling the keys to the truck out of her pocket.
"I'll go and get her," she murmured, making to move towards the door. Pete put a gentle hand on her arm, and Stevie bit her lip as she glanced up at him.
"Let me make you some sandwiches first," Myka said gently, looping her arm around Miles's. "I'm sure you're both starving, and if I don't send something for your mom, she'll never eat at all."
Before Stevie could protest, Myka began steering her son towards the kitchen, already declaring how happy she was to have him home. Pete tucked an arm around Stevie's shoulders so that they could follow after Myka and Miles. Stevie huffed out a sigh.
"Don't take it personally, kid," he whispered, resting his chin on her head for a moment. "You know this is how your mom has always been."
Stevie hummed in reply, and plastered a smile on her face as Myka started asking for sandwich preferences, but any appetite she might have had was long gone, replaced by the tight ball of sadness and disappointment that often accompanied any thought she had of the woman she called Mom.