The Pick Up

"O?"

Stirred from my dreamless sleep, I open my eyes. My eyelids are heavy as if tiny bricks hang from my lashes, so I close them again. Nausea from being woken too soon churn in my gut, and I shift on the bed, pulling the blankets higher, tucking them under my chin.

A warm finger brushes softly over my cheek, pushing more sleep away. "Olivia?"

I open one eye. It's dark, but I can just make out Seth's silhouette as he hangs over me.

"What is it? I ask, my voice husky with sleep. "Is everything okay?"

"I need to pick up Mom." He gently teases my cheek with his knuckle. "Do you want to come with me?"

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I arch my back and stretch. "Yeah. Yes, of course."

I sit up and rub my face, desperate to chase away the exhaustion plaguing me. My vision adjusts to the darkness as Seth places my clothes at the end of the bed, his car keys jingling in his hand. I shove the blankets off and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress. My hair, still damp, sticks to my back,