Adelaide

My alarm goes off too early and I roll over. I lift my hand, smacking at it to stop the hideous music assaulting my peaceful dreams. When my hand comes in contact with a flat, glassy surface, I realize I'm not going to be able to shut my phone up by smacking it. Oh, the days when I actually had an alarm clock.

Oh, the days when I could actually remember to turn it off for the weekend.

Groaning, I sit up in bed and reach for my phone, aggressively silencing the music.

With that, I fall back onto my pillows.

It's too early to be up after staying up until three last night. I don't normally stay up that late, but after all my friends left, including Justin and his mom, the family was still going strong and we all decided it would be a good idea to play some cards. Little did we know it would last so long.

When my eyes have finally adjusted to the brightness, I reach for my phone so I can check my text messages. I have three – two about getting my butt out of bed so Mom and Dad can start making breakfast (one from each of my brothers), and the third from Justin saying he had a great time last night.

Well, if he had a great time last night, then my night was extravagant. Magical. Remarkable. I always thought my first kiss would come from one of those stupid Truth or Dare games we used to play when Soph and I were younger, and not from the boy I've been crushing on since our seventh English class together.

I would say the first, but I didn't really know Justin at that point. Sure, I thought he was good-looking, but he also came across as hostile. It wasn't until we started texting and talking that it really hit me.

I sigh, closing my eyes and smiling at the memory of the kiss.

It was hesitant at first, but I like it that way. First kisses aren't like the books I read – they're never perfect. And me and Justin are prime examples of that; we were hesitant and didn't really know what to do. Cautious, if you will. On top of that, I kept questioning myself, wondering if I was doing it right. Not to mention the wigs were kind of annoying, too.

But I have no problem with that. None whatsoever. A kiss is a kiss and I wouldn't ask for more.

"For Christ's sake, Addie!" Alex shouts through my bedroom door. "If you don't get up and come downstairs, Jake and I are going to get the water guns out and forcefully wake you up."

"What did I say about using empty threats, Alex?" I shout back, laughing and shaking my head. I don't know how many times Alex has threatened me and ended up doing nothing.

"Adelaide," he warns.

"Fine, fine," I say, swinging my legs over the bed and walking over to grab my fluffy housecoat. "I'll be right out. But that's only because I don't want your hangry butt running my day."

Mumbled profanity slips from between his lips as he stomps away.

As I stare out the window, shocked that it's already November, I begin to contemplate whether or not I should risk Alex coming back upstairs and dragging me downstairs by the ear and text Justin right now, or simply text him while sitting at the breakfast bar even though Mom's main rule is no phones during family time.

I decide on the latter. I can just say I'm confirming the details about Justin's next tutor session.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee welcomes me as I step into the kitchen, a cup waiting for me on the countertop. I take it, and then sit down in my usual spot, right in between Jake and Alex, who, just like me, are still in their pyjamas. Thank God it's a Saturday and there's no school – I might've gotten a diluted taste of what a hangover is like. Meaning, I'd just feel extremely tired and not be sick.

Just like me and the boys, Mom and Dad are still in their pyjamas. It makes me smile. We're all still tired from last night, so I'm thinking that today is going to be one of those down days we sometimes spend together; one where we just watch a movie and pig out on flavoured popcorn. Another reason why I'm happy Dad hired another chef to work alongside him at the family restaurant – he gets to spend more time with us.

"Morning, Ads," Dad says.

"Morning, Dad," I reply after a sip of coffee.

"Can we have breakfast now?" Alex whines. "I'm starving."

I reach out and ruffle my little brother's hair. "You and Jake are always hungry."

Jake pokes me in the ribs. "We're hungry because we're growing and need to build up our strength and body mass for hockey."

"Whatever," I mutter, turning back to my coffee. I fail to hide the smile on my lips. "I'm not cheering for you or Alex unless you play for the Leafs."

Dad groans.

Mom makes a fist-pump.

Jake and Alex roll their eyes.

"Don't worry, Dad," Jake says. "The Habs are the team we want to play for. Right, Alex?"

"Damn right, bro," Alex replies, high-fiving his twin.

I love the banter that goes back and forth between me and my brothers. My whole family, actually.

Mom and Dad begin to work their magic in the kitchen. Mom goes right ahead and starts making grandma's famous blueberry buttermilk pancakes that she perfected, adding the perfect amount of batter to the sizzling skillet each time, and filling the room with a lovely scent. Dad starts making his famous garbage hash. I know, sounds disgusting, but it's actually delicious. Dad basically takes whatever we have in the fridge – jalapeños, mushrooms, red peppers, onions, et cetera – and tosses it together with hash browns and cheddar cheese.

My mouth waters a little.

Completely forgetting about texting Justin back, I get up and decide I'm going to pitch in for breakfast. I instantly go for my favourite things: hollandaise sauce and English muffins. I toast the English muffins, and then get to work on the sauce, adding the melted butter to the powder mix. I'm relatively disappointed in myself for using the powdered mix, but I'm still half-asleep and I don't want to take the extra time separating egg yolks in order to make a homemade version.

As I'm stirring the sauce, lost in my own thoughts about last night's kiss, Mom comes up behind me and rests a hand on my shoulder. I quickly look up from what I'm doing.

"Still tired from last night?" she asks.

As if on cue, I yawn and nod my head. "I don't regret staying up late, though."

Mom smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You always have been the last one to go to bed when we're camping."

I shrug, licking some of the hollandaise sauce from my hand. "I just don't want to miss out on anything."

Since the pancakes are done, Mom leans against the counter and lowers her voice as she asks, "So what were you and Justin doing last night?"

I almost choke on my own spit. "H-how? W-what?" I sputter.

Mom quickly shoots a glance at Dad. Although I know Dad is always joking when he says I'm not allowed to date until I'm married, Mom and I both know there is a small part of him that just can't bear to see his little girl grow up. "Please, Addie," Mom grins. "I was once a teenager – I know going upstairs to make sure someone is okay doesn't take that long. So" – she nudges me – "what were you two doing?"

Dang. I've been caught. And there's no point in lying to Mom.

I look at the sauce that I'm beginning to think I've over-stirred, my cheeks turning the same colour as the nail polish on Mom's nails. "I, um, we...Justin and I...may have, um, kissed?" It comes out as a question, but Mom knows me well enough to know that it's a statement. "He was curious and wanted to see my room. I caught him looking at my picture wall, and then we talked for a bit. It kind of just happened." I end my sentence with a shrug – like it's no big deal, when it really is. I also make sure my voice is nice and low so Dad doesn't hear.

Mom is a romantic person. She loves knowing the details and hearing the story about what led up to moments like this, so when Dad walks over to get the pepper from the cupboard behind her, she gives me a look that tells me we're not done with this conversation.

I subtly nod my head. Mom and Dad have never kept any secrets from us, meaning I know everything that's happened between them; how the one secret almost permanently destroyed their relationship. So my nod is a silent promise. If they're willing to keep me in the loop, then I'm willing to keep them in the loop.

When breakfast is complete and everything is laid out on the countertop, I watch the boys pile their plates with copious amounts of food.

"What?" Jake frowns as I silently judge him with a gaping mouth.

"How can you eat that much?"

"We're growing," he shrugs.

"Yeah, but still."

Mom laughs. "You should have seen Hart and your dad when they were seventeen. It was insane how much food they could stomach."

It's my turn to frown. "Jake and Alex are fifteen."

Mom cocks an eyebrow. "My point exactly."

My eyes widen and I turn to Dad. "You're going to need to start bringing leftovers from the restaurant home for these two."

Dad grins. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I nod. "Or else the fridge is going to be empty and I'm not going to have any food for myself."

We all laugh because we know it isn't true – I have a habit of hiding food in the weirdest places. For example, when I got this delicious vegan cranberry cheese from a Farmer's Market in Kelowna last year, I rinsed out a yogurt container, knowing very well that my brothers hate yogurt, and hid the vegan cheese in there so they wouldn't go near it.

I'd find a way to survive.

Halfway through debating what movie we're going to watch this afternoon, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Chewing on a mouthful of pancakes, I sneak my phone out and read the text.

My heart skips a beat.

It's from Justin.

Hey Addie. Could you do me a favour this week?

I glance up at my family. They're still immersed in the debate, so I take my chance. Anything.

He replies instantly. I'm going to Vancouver for the week – could you get me any homework that I miss from English?

Do you really have to ask? I type back. Of course I will. Let me know what classes you have and I'll get the rest for you, too.

"What are you smiling about, Addie?" Dad asks.

I look up from my phone. Everyone is staring at me. And even though I should wipe the goofy smile off my face, I don't.

"I'm, uh, texting Justin."

Jake and Alex have a mini-fit about how they always get punished for using their phones at the table and I never do.

Dad looks suspicious.

Mom is eyeing her plate and trying to hide the smile on her lips.

"About his tutoring sessions," I clarify. My heart sinks a little. Dang. If he's in Vancouver all week, then we'll have to cancel this week's session. I set my phone on the table, face-down. "He's going to Vancouver for some reason this week, so I guess we're cancelling."

Now, my parents have never exchanged a look like they do during this moment, so I know something is up. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing," they say in unison.

I squint. "You're BSing me and I know it. Spill."

Mom sighs. Dad runs a hand through his hair.

"We're just sad for you, honey," Mom says, giving me a loving, caring look. "You seem really happy helping Justin out with Chemistry. And I know you hate it when a wrench gets thrown in your plans."

Her words are the truth, so it's my turn to sigh. "Yeah, I really do." Just like Mom, I speak nothing but the truth. Justin being in Vancouver is going to suck. I wanted to talk to him about last night, figure out where we stand. A kiss like that doesn't symbolize friendship. My gosh, that was pure fire and sparks. I shake my head, returning to reality. "But whatever. It's not like we don't have next week or the week after."

Dad, who is sitting next to me at the dining table, squeezes my hand. "That's my girl – always looking on the positive side."

I smile brightly, and then go back to my food.

But while I eat breakfast, I can't help but wonder why Justin is going to Vancouver and missing a whole week of school. Isn't that something you save for the weekend? Or you go Friday to Monday?

I want to text him and get the details about why he's going to Vancouver, but I also don't want to seem like I'm someone that puts their nose in personal business. So I come to the conclusion that he's visiting family. I know he's originally from Cache Creek, but I do recall him mentioning his aunt and uncle live in Vancouver.

Okay, that's a partial lie. While I want to know, I mainly want to text him just because he's him. Justin is Justin, and he makes me smile. I love talking to him just as much as I love spending time with him.

So, when breakfast is done and the boys are cleaning the kitchen, I go upstairs to get ready for a movie-filled afternoon, shooting Justin a quick text about how much fun I had last night and that we should seriously consider getting together every Halloween to dress as OTP characters from our favourite books.

He replies with: I think Halloween is my favourite holiday now.

The goofy smile is back in no time flat and stays put even as I brush my teeth.

In fact, it stays put until I'm stuffing my face with popcorn on the couch downstairs.