If You Give a Pig a Pancake

The morning after a house guest stays the night is usually the most awkward and unusual. I arose from bed when I smelled blueberry pancakes from downstairs. Did I wake up in the wrong house or something? I stumbled downstairs in my nightshirt and messy ponytail without washing my face or brushing my teeth, as usual. The moment my mom saw me she motioned for me to go back upstairs and make myself presentable for our 'guest'.

"Oh, you mean Dustin?" I rudely pointed out.

"Yes, he's in the shower right now and…" That was about all of what I heard my mom say before I bolted upstairs to try and get the bathroom this morning before Angela did. I banged heavily on the white, wooden door. Too late. I should've known she'd be trying to pretend that she hops out of bed looking perfect every morning to impress her boyfriend. But, then again, what was I doing? When I heard the shower start, I knew it was a lost cause. But still instead of going back downstairs to wait for the pancakes, I went to my room, locked the door, and stared at myself in the vanity mirror. I reached in my top drawer for some acne toner and a cotton ball and washed my face. I plucked out all the tiny sleep crystals in my eyes with my fingernails and grabbed a piece of gum out of my book bag. I listened at my wall and still heard the shower running so I went in my closet to pick out clothes. Normally I wear the first thing I pick out, but this morning for some inexplicable reason, I tried to coordinate shoes and tops. This was insane! I was trying to beat Angela to the table before Dustin saw her. As I went through my entire closet twice, I finally settled on my white t-shirt with dark pink skulls on it, a black vest, acid wash white jeans, black converses, and a black woven cap. This was the most planning I had ever made for an outfit since picture day.

I jogged down the stairs just as Dustin came out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth. Even though he was wearing the same clothes from yesterday, I had to admit, he looked hot. Whatever was in that soap worked wonders. When he saw me, the first thing he noticed was my hat.

"I never really pegged you as a hat person." He said as we both sat down at the kitchen table.

"Well, you know…" I didn't have any snappy comebacks that morning. It was too freaking early. Usually, I don't get up until about ten minutes before mom threatens to leave me home, then I race into the bathroom and still have time for a bowl of cereal before school. Today, I woke up an hour before I usually do and couldn't possibly wait for Angela to get out of the shower. This morning was so weird. And speaking of weird, dad came in the kitchen and greeted everyone. He even greeted mom at the stove with a kiss on the cheek. I was flabbergasted. I haven't seen my parents kiss since, well, ever! I figured they weren't gonna argue this morning for the sake of our guest, but kiss? When the pancakes were almost done, mom asked me to set the table. What do I look like, Martha Stewart? I guess my expression conveyed my strong dislike of housework. So then, Dustin offered to do it. I bet he'd never even seen plates that weren't plastic. What would he know about setting a table? So I decided I would scrutinize everything he did until he lost confidence; the same thing I do to Angela on a regular basis. He went to the cabinet to get the plates and I sat and watched him struggle to reach the top cabinet where the good china is. I knew I was supposed to tell him that we only have dinner on those plates, but he was setting the table, not me. His first mistake was where he put the bowls. They were supposed to go on top of the plates, not beside them. But before I could correct him, he fixed it. I wrote it off as beginner's luck and studied him even more. When he put down a knife, I was so ready to tell him it was facing the wrong way, but he still got to it before I said anything.

"Let me see if I remember how to do this." he laughed as he decided which side the forks should go on. I was highly irritated that I couldn't make fun of him for being a lousy table maker. When he had finished, it look amazing. Everything was in its exact place. The fork was on the left side of the plate next to the napkin. The knife was on the right side next to the teaspoon. The cup and saucer was on the right and even the bread and butter plate was on the left with a butter spreader. It was like watching the queen herself set a table.

"Where did you learn to do that?" I asked, genuinely amazed.

"When I was younger, my mom made me take cotillion and we learned all this stuff. Never thought I'd actually use any of it, though."

"Me and Angela did Debutante Cotillion a few years ago, too." He was just too good to be true. He had to be hiding something. Just as I started to get suspicious Princess Angela came down the stairs. She wore a very low cut yellow polka dotted dress, white hoop earrings, and white flats. A dress, why didn't I think of that? She came to the table in her usual cheerful manner and greeted Dustin with a friendly hug as opposed to a kiss since mom was in the kitchen. I could definitely tell that Angela was trying to impress Dustin wearing this dress today when she was planning to wear it next Easter for their special anniversary picnic. Don't ask me how I know that. Apparently, it wasn't really working. He didn't say a single word about her outfit. He at least mentioned mine but, I'm not his girlfriend. Halfway through the boring breakfast conversation I felt a kick from underneath the table. Mom was on my left side and Angela was across the table sitting next to dad. The only person who could've kicked me was Dustin. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

"If you want my attention so badly just say something." I told him.

"Okay," he looked and saw that Angela was engrossed in a conversation with my mom. "After school, meet me underneath the orange tree in the back."

"For what?"

"You chicken or something?"

"No, I just don't want to waste my time."

"Trust me, it won't be wasted." That stupid smirk, yet again.

"Whatever. I'm there." First the guy gets me kicked out of Biology class, then he stays the night at my house, sleeping on my couch and eating my pancakes, then he has the audacity to just ask me to meet him in some secret tryst when his girlfriend is sitting right next him?

That low life. But what's even lower is that I was crazy enough to say yes.