“Willis, get up.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to do but Dallas wouldn’t stop shaking his shoulder. Willis groaned and rolled over, he blinked harshly as the fluorescent lights burned his eyes. Eventually he found the will to glare at Dallas.
“What time is it?” He asked.
Dallas looked to the clock, “seven.”
“It’s only been a few hours-”
“Seven in the morning.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Dallas fretted his hands, “I fell asleep, and just woke up. We need to get to the kitchen. I need to make breakfast.”
“Are you that hungry?”
“No, but I didn’t make dinner last night and the others-”
“They’re a bunch of teenage boys. They probably made a dinner of chips and jerky.”
“That’s not healthy.”
Willis deadpanned at him before he got up. The moment he was up right, a dizzy spell made him sway. Dallas grabbed his arm, steadying him.