Fifty-three: MTOABB

MTOABB

“Rossita! Rossita!”

“Get down here! NOW!”

I am woken up by Chloe’s screams coming from downstairs. I jump into a sitting position, hitting Gomes with the back of my hand. He groans and winces in pain.

“Sorry,” I whisper. He flutters his eyes wide open and reaches for his glasses and puts them on.

“Good morning,” he says.

“It won’t be a good one if I don’t get downstairs right now,” I tell him and he looks at me quizzically.

Chloe’s banging on the door clears up his dazed look. “Something happened?” He asks.

“We are meant to make breakfast today.”

“Why? I can cook up something for you two.”

“Look at you being way too sweet this morning, but no. This is a competition, and I am going to win. I am a better cook than her.” I look at him with such determination as I quickly get out of bed.