“Your dad. Now get up. Guess who’s coming home today?” She lands on her knees beside me, jerking the covers completely off me.
“Ian,” I smile.
“I was going to say Kelsey, but yeah, I guess Ian will be coming here too.” She laughs and hits me with a pillow.
“You’re such a horn dog, do you know that?” I laugh and hit her with a pillow.
“Duh,” she laughs. “But I’m eighteen now… we might end up sisters.” She smiles from ear to ear, “if not, I’ll just have some more fun with him.”
“Ewww, gross. He’s my brother. I don’t want to hear about your gross escapades with him.” With my hands, I cover my ears. I always knew she liked Kelsey, but I never knew that they have already done it. I guess she was one of the ones I heard him grunting with in the woods.
“I haven’t seen Ian in so long, but after the thing with Nikki and him at the bonfire… I just couldn’t.” I sit up and stretch.
“You should’ve punched that bitch right in her nose.” Jessi punches the air.
“Maybe…” I look down and play with the sheet on my bed.
“You’ll find out today if Ian is your mate, after all.” Jessi squeals.
“No, I won’t. My birthday is not until tomorrow.” I purse my lips and look at Jessi.
“That sucks.” Her smile fades to a frown.
“Yeah,” I sigh out.
“Girls,” mom shouts from downstairs, “biscuits and gravy are ready! Come eat! We leave for the salon in one hour.”
Jessi and I look at each other and smile, then rush downstairs, pushing and shoving each other out of the way. Biscuits and gravy are one of our all-time favorites, and mom only makes it once or twice a year. She makes everything from scratch, just like her mom taught her. I love the drop biscuits that she calls cat head biscuits, and if you ask her why they’re called that, she’ll simply say because they’re as big as a cat’s head. When I was about ten years old, I asked my grandma who was visiting why she didn’t make biscuits like they do in the packhouse; rolled and cut into circles. My grandma just tilted her head at me and said, “dear sweet child… because I don’t want to. You see, once I learned never to do things I don’t want to do, my life improved by tenfold.” Little advice like that has always stuck with me.
Jessi and I slide our way into the kitchen, narrowly missing mom as she walks from the stove to the table with her plate of food. My stomach lets out a loud roar, letting me know it can’t wait to get the yummy smelling food inside my belly. Mom has plates waiting for us next to the stove, and we each take a baseball sized biscuit and split it in half. I pour on two huge ladles full of the delicious cream gravy with sausage mixed in. Jessi butters one half of her biscuit, then pours fresh raw honey from our pack’s apiary over it. I love the honey from our territory this time of year. The citrus trees are in full bloom and the honey has a sweet orange blossom taste to it. She then pours two ladles of the creamy goodness over the other half of the biscuit. Jessi has said she can drink the gravy straight from a mug, and I believe her.
My mom watches the two of us shoveling food into our mouths like we haven’t eaten in weeks. I can tell by the look on her face she is not approving of the way we are eating, so I sit up and elbow Jessi.
“You know,” mom sips her coffee, “you both are not pups anymore. You’re both women now and could meet your mate any second. Maybe it’s time we act a little more… ladylike. You know, put the finishing classes your dad and I paid for to good use.” She looks between Jessi and me.
“I didn’t go to finishing school,” Jessi looks down. Jessi’s parents are not ranked wolves and because of that, there are differences in our lifestyles. Like finishing school. As a ranked wolf, it’s expected that I will be mated to a ranked wolf and will be expected to attend different events where I will need to know proper etiquette. Even though Jessi is not ranked, my parents have always welcomed her into our home. My mom has even treated her like a daughter, teaching her things here and there.
“If you like, Jessi, I will be happy to teach you proper etiquette. A lady should always have good manners. You never know when you’ll need them.” My mom smiles and takes a bite from her fork.
“Really?” Jessi says through a mouthful of food. I put my head down and laugh to myself.
“First lesson,” my mom puts her hand up to Jessi, “don’t talk with a mouthful of food.” Jessi simply nods as she chews. My mom really has her work cut out for her. Jessi is a sweetheart, but really rough around the edges.
Suddenly I’m hit with a sharp pain in my head behind my eyes. I hold my head in my hands and groan quietly.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart,” mom says.
“Sharp pain in my head.” I look up at my mom.
“Migraine?” She stands next to me.
“No, it feels different.” I rub my head with my fingertips. Unfortunately, I have had migraines since I was fifteen. The doctor’s at the pack hospital ran a battery of test and could never pin point an issue. My dad told me that migraines run in the family, that his grandmother suffered from migraines before she got her wolf. So I’m hoping that once I get my wolf the migraines will stop. My triggers for my migraines seem to be stress or when I get my period. Right now, I’m neither of those two things. This pain is behind my eyes. My migraines usually start on top of my head. This pain is unusual and different.
“Let me grab your medicine.” Mom walks to the cupboard where we keep medical supplies and medicine.
“Just something over the counter. The other stuff makes me drowsy, and I want to be wide awake for my party.” I smile at my mom and breathe. I really hope this is not a stupid migraine, not today of all days.
“Come on honey, time to wake up and get dressed for your party.” My mom strokes my shoulder. I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes.