The next morning:
"You know you can come and help me, right?," I ask Daisy, playing this dangerous game of letting my eyes off the pancakes on the stove to feign a glare at her, to which she just chuckled as she lazily picked her head from her palm and looked at me with eyes that seemedlike a perfect mix of sleepy and dreamy, making me sign affectionately in return. God, I loved this girl.
" And give up on the very rare sight of watching Caleb Miller cook? Never." She grinned in return, making me shake my head.
"You never run out of excuses, do you?"
Flipping the pancake one last time, I put it on the plate in front of me and adding a little piece of butter on the top of it, I passed it towards the table, where Daisy was sitting along with maple sauce like a kid. Oh, and strawberry s
