Sensations

My eyelids fluttered open as my nose scrunched up, the delicious aroma of chocolate chip pancakes floating to my nose and offering me a very satisfying wake up call. It feels amazing to wake up to such a delicious smell, knowing that there will be a heaping plate of chocolate chip pancakes sitting on the kitchen table, waiting to be devoured by yours truly.

I lazily blinked my eyes a few times, lifting my legs up and kicking them in the air so that the blankets would slide off my body into a huge pile on the side of my bed. As my room started to become clearer, I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands and trying to make my hair somewhat presentable so it didn’t look like a chimney was growing out of my head.

I slipped off of my bed, crawling towards my door eagerly as the smell of the pancakes grew strong. A string of curses made its way past my lips as I accidentally bumped into the door frame, causing me to sit back on my heels and rub my forehead worriedly. God, I hate mornings, you’re always lifeless and idiotic because you’re not ready for the day to start.

I grabbed my doorframe, using it hoist up my drowsy frame and skimming my hands along the walls for support as I made my way downstairs, stumbling a bit on the stairs since I’m still nowhere near awake. I reached the bottom of the staircase and yawned as I made my way towards the kitchen, smiling triumphantly when I found it without tripping over anything since my eyes were closed.

I quickly sat down in my chair, going as far as to take a napkin from the napkin basket at the edge of the table an opening it up, placing it in my lap politely. I took the fork in my left hand and the knife in my right, fisting them as I let my hands bang against the table once. My eyes widened as I looked to my grandmother who was setting a big stack of chocolate chip pancakes on a plate for me. “Food?” I asked her, mock innocence lacing my town.

She turned towards me, her oversized nightgown swishing with the movement, her slippers barely missing getting caught on the hemline of it. “You’re such a toddler sometimes, Dayne!” She scolded me playfully, waggling her finger at me as she placed my plate of food in front of me. I waited patiently for her to prepare two more plates of pancakes, one for herself and one for my grandfather. She placed the maple syrup and a tray with a stick of butter in the middle of the table, three glasses of orange juice following soon after, before taking her own seat and announcing that we could dig in.

“Not having a good morning?” Grandma questioned me as I devoured my pancakes. She always knows when I’m feeling down, even if I attempt to cover it up. There’s no way that I would ever be able to keep a secret from her keen senses and adorable motherly nature.

“I ran into a wall before I even got out of my bedroom,” I told her, a slight blush dusting my cheeks as I subconsciously shifted in my seat, my hand coming up to rearrange my hair so that it was covering the red mark that was probably taking residence on my forehead.

“Oh, so it’s a pretty normal morning,” Grandpa commented, chuckling afterwards as he got up and placed his plate of chocolate chip pancakes in the sink, picking up my grandma’s after pecking her on the forehead softly. He got to work on cleaning them as Grandma blushed slightly, leaning her head on her hand as I finished my food, loving how they always gave me a bit more then they gave themselves since I was a growing teenage boy.

My eyes shifted between my grandparents as I finished off the last half of my pancake. They were such a cute old couple, still crazy about each other and happily married for most of their lives. I want to find that person whose like that for me, the one who I can relate to so easily, the one that I could love but still consider my best friend, the one that makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the world. When I grow up, I want to be just like them, and once I find that person, whoever he or she may be, I’m totally going to make that happen. Their living the life I hope to live when I get older.

“Go get changed,” Grandma ordered as she took my plate and put it in the sink.

“I can wash it myself,” I whispered as I stood up, making my way to the sink so that I could wash my own plate. I can do a simple chore myself and it would be just rude of me to make my grandmother do it.

“Nonsense!” She scolded, nudging me out of the way and pushing me towards the staircase. “This is my house and as long as you are under my roof, you will allow me to do things! Now, go get changed. It’s the first day back to school after spring break, and I know you don’t want to be late since you haven’t seen your best friend in over a week!”

I laughed, making my way up the stairs and to my room. The truth is, I do miss Evan. We’ve been inseparable ever since we were in diapers, and it’s rare we go a week without hanging out, but he vacationed to France for the week.

Off of the top of my head, the only time I went without Evan for a few days was when I came out to my parents. See, he too is bisexual, and my parents refused to let me see him, thinking he had corrupted me into becoming what they like to refer disgustedly to as them. Then Grandma came flying in, rescuing me from my parents and housing me in a house who accepts me, a house that I’ve now called home for the last three years of my life. Grandma is such an amazing and truly admirable woman.

I sighed as I shifted through my closet, smiling victoriously when I found my favorite black skinny jeans, throwing on my lucky Stereo Skyline band tee minutes after. I slipped on a pair of neon green converse and moved to the mirror, getting ready to work on my hair.

A scowl made its way onto my lips as I looked into the mirror, noticing that there was, in fact, a big red mark on the side of my forehead, probably from when I crawled into the wall this morning. I expertly straightened my hair, strategically placing it so that it still covered one of my blue eyes while covering the newly made mark on my forehead as well. A victorious smile replaced the scowl on my lips as I grabbed my backpack and ran down the stairs getting ready to walk to drive to school and see all of my friends again.

I walked out of the door and slipped on our welcome mat, having to use the banister as support, barely saving myself from falling down the three stairs we have in front of the house.

I could hear the amused laughter from my grandparents as I stood up and brushed myself off, attempting to walk to my car with dignity without making it seem like I almost face planted on a set of stone steps moments before.

The last thing I heard as I pulled out of the driveway and made my way to school was my Grandpa amused mumble, “bless his soul!” Great, my Grandpa finds amusement in my clumsiness. Isn’t that awesome?

Have I mentioned that I really hate mornings?