Dance With Me

“Happy Birthday!”
I opened my eyes to see my mom standing in my room with a tray full of pancakes with maple syrup. I was lying in bed after a good nights sleep. From what I could tell, it was late morning because my room was filled with light. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, adjusting to the brightness of the sun. My mom sat the tray on my lap and took a seat on the end of my bed.
“Wow mom, these pancakes are amazing. Thanks.” I said, after a moment of silence while I ate my breakfast.
“You’re welcome honey,” she said, and stood up. “I’m making some coffee and hot chocolate, so get dressed when your finished and come to the library. Oh, and wake your brother up too. We need to talk as a family.”
“Okay.” I said as she left my room. My mom normally doesn’t talk about things as a family unless it’s really important. Either that or they have to break bad news to us. My brother and I get along pretty well, considering we spent a lot of time together as kids. He is three years younger than I am, but our family has spent summer in the Hamptons for the last eight years, which meant no friends. Sometimes I wondered why we went to the Hamptons, besides the fact that we would meet my mom’s family over there.
I finished my breakfast and set the tray on the end of my bed. My mom had said to get dressed, so I got in the shower, not bothering to wake my brother up yet. Boys never need as much time to get dressed as girls do, just another unfair aspect of life that I would have to live with. When I did finish my shower, I decided to get my brother out of bed before drying my hair.
My brother’s room was always messy, but lately it had become a hazard to people’s health. His bed was thirty feet from the door, yet I nearly fell on my face seven times. When I finally did reach his bed, I shook him awake, being careful so he wouldn’t hit me when he woke up; my brother sometimes had vivid nightmares. After a minute he groaned and turn so his back was facing me.
“Come on Brian, mom wants to talk to us, so you have to get up!” I said, sitting on his bed, not bothering to continue shaking him. Brian immediately flipped back over and opened his eyes.
“But your hair’s wet. You never go down stairs with wet hair, or hair that isn’t blow-dried.” I sighed. It was true, but he had to get up.
“Brian, you need to get dressed so mom can talk to us. It sounded pretty important when she told me.”
“Fine.” Brian muttered, rolling off the other side of his bed and walking through the mess to his bathroom. My work was done, so I got up, and tried to maneuver my way to the door. “Oh, Christina.” I turned around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Happy Birthday.”