My girl, my girl… don't lie to me…

Tell me where did you sleep last night?

In the pines, in the pines… where the sun never shines…

I would shiver the whole night through…

Fluttering my eyes open, I yawn obnoxiously and stretch my arms up to the sky; trying to get rid of the kinks that formed in my back from last night. This couch might look nice and cozy from a distance, but don't be fooled – there's almost nothing comfortable about the stupid thing.

It smells like Carlos' sweatshirts and Nick's B.O.

My girl, my girl, where will you go?

I'm going where the cold wind blows…

Twirling my head around, I can hear the faint sound of somebody… singing? From the kitchen, maybe? Well, whatever it is, it's pleasant enough to listen to, and sure beats the hungry growls of walkers out in the woods, or Christa's usual silence that she'd bring to the table.

Sigh… Thinking about Christa still gets me a little down sometimes.

In the pines, in the pines… where the sun don't ever shine…

I would shiver the whole night through…

Okay, I know for a fact that I'm not just hearing things this time, but that's not the thing that really captures my attention. No, the thing that intrigues me the most out of anything is that smell… Mmm… Could… could it actually be…?

Feeling my mouth start to water, I swing my legs off the couch and stand up to investigate; making sure to keep take my hat with me as the floorboards creak underneath me. This cabin's a nice enough place, I suppose, with rooms for practically everybody and enough food to keep their hungry bellies at bay. I've only been here for two days now, and though we didn't exactly start off on the right foot with the whole "shed thing", I'm happy to report that at least some of the cabin members are starting to trust me a little bit.

Some more than others though, unfortunately.

Her husband was a hard-working man, just about a mile from here…

His head was found in a driving wheel, but his body was never found…

Picking up the scent, I slowly and carefully open up the kitchen door; poking my head in as I watch with a smirk. There's our culprit; singing away while flipping something in the pan over a sizzling stove. How they've managed to get something like that working is beyond me, but I'm not complaining. Their food here is some of the best I've had in a long time.

My smile grows bigger when I realize who it actually is that's singing away without a care in the world – the dark brownish-red hat was a dead giveaway.

Nick, you old softie!

My girl, my girl… don't lie to me…

Tell me where did you sleep last night?

In the pines, in the pines… where the sun don't ever shine…

I would shiver the whole night through…

"You sound pretty good, Nick!"

"Jesus Christ!" he shouts, completely startled as he drops the pan and slightly burns his finger. I wince as he dances around like a buffoon trying to numb the pain. "AGH! FUCKING… OWW!"

Putting a scolding finger to my lips, I urge him to be quiet as I fully step into the kitchen. "Shh! You've gotta keep it down!" I tell him, watching as he shoots a harsh glare my way. Nothing new there. "The rest of your friends are still sleeping probably!"

"Yeah, no shit!" he snaps angrily, putting his finger in his mouth in order to try and ease the ache. "Ugh… god damn, that smarts! What the hell are you doing in here anyways?!"

Feigning innocence, I raise my hands in a guilt-free fashion as I waltz on over beside him; standing on my tippy-toes in order to see what's cooking.

"You're making pancakes?!" I question with bubbling excitement. "Oh my god, yes! But… why? I thought you guys usually ate oatmeal in the morning?"

Bending his index finger to make sure that it still actually works, Nick tries his best to shake it off as he picks up the handle of the pan once again. Geez, is he being a baby or what? I had to sew up my own arm, for crying out loud! You don't know pain until you've dumped a whole bunch of peroxide on an open wound, stitched yourself back together and then immediately afterwards had to fight off a walker all by yourself.

Then do that at eleven years old. Yeah, Nick's being a bit of a whiner right now.

"Don't worry about it…' he mumbles, trying to swat me away like a mosquito. "Just go back in the living room and leave me alone, alright? I don't need you bothering me!"

Oh, Nick… stupid, stupid, Nick! Don't you have any idea about how persistent I can be?

"I'm not annoying anybody!" I insist, smirking and closing my eyes as the sweet aroma wafts through my nostrils. "Man… pancakes are soooooo good!"

Sighing in defeat, Nick shakes his head in amusement as I grab a stool and step on it; putting on a stained chef's hat over top of my regular baseball cap. I think it makes me look like a real gourmet cook; all distinguished and stuff!

"Chef Clementine, at your service!" I bow, causing him to snort as he hands me the only other working spatula in the house.

I can't believe it – I actually got Nick to smile and laugh, both at the same time! Mission accomplished!

Seeming to realize what he's doing, Nick tries to act all cool and tough again as he turns back to the steaming pan. "It's Pancake Tuesday," he explains, smirking a little when I give him a curious stare.

"How can you tell?"

"Well… I don't really know, alright? It just feels like it to me," he replies, not exactly making any sense. But it's not like I can question it, really – nobody's keeping track of the dates anymore. "Besides, I ain't one to turn down a good meal when we've got it. All the shit we need is right here."

Trying to scrape underneath one of the flapjacks, I smirk in victory when I finally get it; having trouble flipping it upside down. Instead, I watch as Nick tries to show me how to do it properly.

Never thought that I'd be out making pancakes in the middle of the apocalypse.

"Where'd you get all this stuff, anyways?" I ponder, still finding it difficult to believe. "Do you guys have some sort of secret stash that I didn't know about? Because if I had known about it beforehand, that's probably the first place I would've hit when I broke in here."

Expecting the sour look that he's giving me, I chuckle slightly as Nick pushes my hat over my eyes. "There's a convenience store not too far from here – didn't have a whole lot, but some of this stuff hasn't gone rotten yet."

Nodding my head, I put both hands on the handle of the spatula and try to do exactly how Nick did. Okay… nice and easy…

Flip!

The pancake sails over both of our heads; ripping through the sky as I fearfully watch it splatter and land… all over Rebecca's face.

Oh… shit…

"Hehe… umm, let me just, uhh… wipe that off… There we go…" I murmur sheepishly, carefully wiping the gooey substance off of a seething Rebecca.

I'm pretty sure that her anger is heating up the pancake more than the oven was.

…..

"Wow, Nick! You made breakfast? Never thought I'd live to see the day!" Luke jokes, nudging his best friend on the shoulder as he rubs my hat around. "You too, squirt. That was real nice of y'all."

"I think he owes us after the beans fiasco last week," Pete jokes, getting a round of nods from his fellow amused cabin survivors. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to scrub that stuff off the ceiling? Two whole days! And I'm sixty-two years old! If I'd had known that I'd still be cleaning up your messes at this point, I'd have moved states long ago!"

Rolling his eyes, Nick and I set the plates down in front of the hungry souls; getting a beaming smile from Alvin and Sarah, an appreciative nod from Carlos and an annoyed stare from Rebecca. Out of everyone standing there, why did it have to be her?!

As I take a seat next to Sarah and start digging in to the meal (which is pretty damn good if I do say so myself), I can't help but notice that Sarah's giggling incessantly at me.

Confused, I frown my brow as I try to figure out what the problem is. "What? Is it something on my face?" I question, getting a head shake from Sarah as the others start to clue in. Taking my hat off, I slowly peel the pancake batter off in a strip and set it down on my plate. "But who…?"

Glancing over at Rebecca, I can't help but giggle as she eats a forkful of breakfast in silent content. "Got'cha," she mumbles between mouthfuls as everyone joins in on the laughter.

You know what? I think I could get used to living among these folks. They're alright.

As the laughter dies down and the grown-ups all discuss what it is that they needed to do for the day – you know, stocking the supplies, heading down to the fish traps (which I've volunteered to come with), and the usual stuff – we all stop when we pick up some other kind of scent.

Is that… smoke?

"NICK!" I shriek, holding my hands against my head as I stand up. "YOU LEFT THE OVEN ON!"

"OH LORD JESUS, IT'S A FIRE!"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TURN THE DAMN THING OFF?!"

"JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND HELP! SOMEBODY GET THE WATER!"

"WE DON'T HAVE ANY! ALVIN USED IT ALL LAST NIGHT!"

"ME?! DON'T BLAME THAT SHIT ON ME! CARLOS WAS WASHING HIS FACE LAST NIGHT!"

"DID NOT!"

"DID TOO!"

"DID NOT!"

"YEAH, YOU DAMN WELL DID!"

Despite panicking while trying to prevent this from turning into a massive blaze as Sarah and I whip table cloths back and forth, I can't help but laugh at how comical and freaked-out everyone's being right now. I haven't had this much fun in forever.

Never a dull moment, is there? Especially when it comes to pancakes.