chapter eight; brendon
"What the hell, Raneri."
Of all the ways I could have expected to wake up, this was not one of them. But regardless of how little I knew her, it was incredibly Spencer to be sitting here, Indian-style at the foot of my bed, staring me down with those eyes of hers, demanding answers. I blinked at her. "Good morning, sunshine," I mumbled, pulling my feet out from under her and sitting up to face her.
"Would you care to explain to me why the shit I'm here?" she growled.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"I don't care! It could be effing Christmas for all I care! Why am I here?" She was shrieking, and I was trying to keep calm, because I had a fleeting thought that if I yelled back, she might do something rash. Or just yell more, neither of which I appreciated.
"It's Sunday, Spencer, at like 6:30 in the morning."
"That's extremely helpful. I'm leaving now."