I woke up to something licking my face as disgusting as it sounds.
My eyes snapped open and I hurriedly pushed myself away from Tater, the house dog that was black and huge, and a labrador nonetheless. As far as I've pushed myself however, I fell onto the cold floor of my room with a loud thud.
Maxwell Evans shot up from his seat from where he'd been sleeping, his hands in a form of some kind of karate sequence – not that he'd done karate or tae kwon do when he was young. He slowly blink his eyes and saw the dog on the bed.
“Is that a dog?” He asked, his voice cracking halfway.
“No,” I muttered, picking myself off the marble floor. “It's a freaking bear.”
My best friend stared at me, then brought his gray eyes into slits as he realized the sarcasm in them. “What time is it?” He asked,
