Chapter 21Pidge woke up, disoriented as he always was in the darkness of the long winter nights. Something wet was touching his face. A long crack of light showed where the door was ajar. Buddy was a small, floppy-eared silhouette.
Pidge turned on the light. Buddy was damp except for the new sock on his injured paw. His breath smelled like turkey. Pidge groped for his phone. Six-thirty. Time to get up. He had showered last night, but he needed to go to his room for his books before class at eight. He climbed out of bed and pulled on Giant’s flannel shirt. Buddy led the way to the kitchen, limping only a little.
The coffee was ready. Giant was bent over the stove. “Hey. Hungry?”
“Sure.” Pidge poured himself coffee, took a sip, then checked the mug at Giant’s elbow to see if it was empty.
