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ON THE FIRST MORNING OF Christmasbreak, Eva gratefully remained in bed. Debbie had awoken hours earlier for some unknown reason—but Eva was not concerned. All she knew was that she had finally caught a break from school.
Truthfully, school wasn't that bad. It was only that Eva grew tired of reminding teachers that her name was pronounced "A-vuh" and not "E-vuh." Of petty girls starting rumors about her and Carl Gallagher, because the news of Eva's moving in spread quickly.
Now she could focus on the comfort of her and Debbie's shared bed; the two fit quite comfortably. But in Debbie's absence, she could spread out her limbs. She dreamt happy dreams.
But all good things came to an end. In this instance, Carl Gallagher was to blame. In most instances, it seemed, Carl Gallagher was to blame.
Debbie's bedroom door swung open, but, considering she was asleep, Eva did not notice. Carl stood in nothing but a pair of black shorts, his light curls tousled. He leaned against the wall, examining the girl splayed across the bed. Only half of her body was covered; one leg was curled around an extra pillow.
A mischievous smirk curved on Carl's lips. He quietly made his way to the side of the bed, where he sat beside the sleeping girl. Her dark hair was pulled neatly over her shoulder, providing a perfect view of her face—her skin seemed to glow with rest. Carl had never seen her look so peaceful.
"Wake up!" Carl suddenly screamed, his voice shattering the wonderful silence of Eva's unconscious mind. She jerked awake, instantly clutching onto the pillow beneath her head for dear life.
"What the hell, Carl," she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Jesus, woman, I've been yelling at you to get up for three minutes," he berated.
Eva clenched her fists, but did not bother to open her rested eyes. For once her head did not ache with exhaustion. "I was having the best sleep of my life," she growled, "you fucking asshole."
She sighed and buried her face into the pillow. Carl allowed his grin to break through, broadened with amusement. For a moment he stared at her, attempting to force away the laughter that bubbled in his throat.
Finally Carl said, "Okay, I was lying about the three minutes thing. But we've got coffee and pancakes downstairs."
Silence.
"Ian's making the pancakes."
And that was all Eva needed to hear. All of a sudden, she burst from the bed, ripping off the blanket and nearly tripping over Carl's body in her haste. He threw out a hand to steady her, but she was already gone.
