Waiting for the Last Dance, Chapter Two

 

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Chapter Two

"You up, Marisha?" Mom shouted from the bottom of the stairwell, which amplifies her voice and I swear makes her sound like a harpy. "Time to get up, Marisha!"

"Yeah. Right. Whatever." I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to find the perfect warm spot in my bed.

I have always hated mornings. I hate the mere thought of