Chapter 1, Part 3

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"Amanda? Amanda? Wake up."
"Hmmmmraughglfmmm?" I groaned, stretching.
"You fell asleep." Emily's smirking face slowly came into focus.
"What? No! Did Victor find out about Roxanne's affair? What happened?" I heard Denise laughing.
"Yeah, he caught them getting intimate in the men's room. It was hysterical." Emily chuckled, grabbing the popcorn bowl off the coffee table.
"Did he ever ask what's-her-name out?" I rubbed my eyes, sitting up.
"Sarah? Yeah. It was really sweet." I got up and yawned.
"How long was I out?"
"Over an hour." Came Denise's voice. "You two go get ready for bed. Lights out in 45 minutes, and I want a minimum of whispering."
"Got it." We groaned, trudging up the stairs. We brushed our teeth and went to get our pajamas on, when I realized I had only brought a pajama shirt. The bottoms must still be in my dresser. "Great. I can't sleep in jeans." I tossed a pitiful glance at Emily, who promptly threw a pair of boxer shorts at my face. "Eew, whose are these?" I asked, pinching my nose and holding them at arm's length.
"Mine, idiot. They were having a sale and they make awesome pajama bottoms."
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I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Oh!" I noticed the beautiful bluejay sitting on Emily's windowsill, cocking it's head to the side and tapping on the window with its strong black beak.
I pulled the covers back and slid out of bed, trying not to move suddenly.
"Hello, there." I whispered, slowly creeping to the window. "The service here is wonderful," I cooed, glancing at Emily's alarm clock. "Your wake-up call is right on time." I gently laid my hand against the cool glass. The bird was so close, but I couldn't touch it.
Another bluejay swooped by, and the one on the windowsill followed eagerly. The twirled around each other, a whirl of blue against a lighter sky. I watched them until they flew out of sight.
"Eeeeemiilyyyyyy...." I whispered. "Eeeemillyyyyy...Wake up!"
"Aaaahhh!" She snorted, thrashing about and jumping, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. I bounced onto the bed and looked over it to make sure she was okay, then we both erupted laughing.
"F-f-frammit, Amanda." Emily stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes. "What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty, Lazybones. Let's go guilt some pancakes from your mom, huh?"
"Yeah!" She cried, and rushed to the door.
"Wait, no!" I grabbed a lock of her silky chocolate-colored hair. "I have to get dressed first. What if Shawn's down there? I don't care how close we are, but he is not seeing me in boxer shorts and a ripped Lisa Simpson shirt."
"Come, on!" She sighed, "He never wakes up before noon on a weekend, anyway."
"I don't care." I pulled my backpack out from under the bed, and took my clothes out. "Besides, I'm cold, and Roswald always licks my legs when I wear shorts. It's weird."
"Fine." Emily rolled her eyes and got her own clothes, too.
Once we had gotten dressed, we raced downstairs, and bounced into the kitchen, requests for pancakes already on our lips. But instead of Denise laughing at our jumbled words, it was Emily's lanky, 15-year-old brother, Shawn, putting away Roswald's food.
"Shawn?" cried Emily in amazement.
"I told you!" I laughed. "Where's Den-- er, your mom?" I asked.
"She ran to the store to grab stuff for pancakes, the psychic." He straightened, revealing that he was only wearing boxers and a T-shirt, and promptly turned bright red. "And I," He called, running up the stairs, "am off to get dressed!"
Emily and I just stood there for a minute, then collapsed onto the floor, holding our sides and laughing for all we were worth.
"Can you imagine," I gasped. "how much funnier it would have been--"
"If you hadn't changed?" Emily, laughed, helping me up.
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