Two-Bits Beep-bip beep-bip beep-bi beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep- bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip beep-bip.
Groaning, I stuck a hand out from under the covers and slammed it down on the obnoxious alarm, silencing it. "I seriously need to get a freakin' CD alarm," I muttered, darkly, glaring at the evil machine that so innocently stared back at me, its green numbers boring the time into my head. It was 7:42.
I jumped up, immediately, struggling to disintangle myself from the sheets wrapped haphazardly around my lower body. When I had fallen backwards onto the floor, in an avalanche of flesh and sheets, Davvy decided to burst in.
"Morning, Two-Bits!" he said, cheerfully. He glanced around, confused, for a moment, then noticed me, on the floor, in an embarrassing and ungraceful heap. He smiled at me, surpressing a fit of laughter. I glared up at him.
"Don't. Say. A word," I muttered, dangerously, rolling over and righting myself. He nodded, still smiling.
"Hurry up, or we'll be late," he choked.
"What's it matter? It's the frickin' last day o' school!" I shot back, through the shut door. The significance of the words that had just left my tongue hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the last day of school. Rapturously, I jumped up and began pulling on whatever clothes I could find, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and raced downstairs, running a comb through my hair.
"Come on, Davvy! We'll be late!" I said, grabbing the toast he offered me and rushing out the door. He grabbed his bags and ran after me, looking frazzled.
"Since when are you worried about being late?" he asked, dumbfounded. I smiled, broadly at him.
"It's the last day of school, silly!" He stared at me, concern marring his face.
"Okay, you did not just call me silly. What's gotten into you? You're acting like—dare I say it—like Sarah!" I fell back against my seat, the realization of the truth in his words sinking in. He placed a hand to my forehead. "No temperature."
"Okay, I'm alright now, Mom," I said, sullenly. He smiled.
"Just gotta look out for my baby sister. You were really scaring me!"
"I was scaring myself, too—Hey! I am NOT your baby sister!"
"Technically, you ARE younger than me," he pointed out.
"By a half a month!" I retorted. I grinned, evilly. "Besides, who's the one who can't drive yet?" I asked, casually jabbing my finger at him.
"Hey! That test is not fair! As Racetrack would say, it's a rigged deck!" Davvy replied, indignantly. For some reason, at the mention of Race's name, my stomach did a flip-flop. Weird. Maybe I WAS getting sick...