The next morning, at 6:00 sharp, Jon was roughly awoken by his mother's rapping at his door.
"Jon, time to get up!"
Jon groaned himself awake. His mom was so tightly-wound, so punctual. She'd knocked on his door with the precise same volume and the precise same rhythm at the precise same time every schoolday morning for as far back as Jon could remember.
Not entirely awake, Jon decided for himself that he'd help his mother out. He took the stone out of the hiding place he'd put it and, with eyes that still hadn't come into focus yet, said, "I wish my mom knew how to relax a little."
Jon put the stone away and collapsed back onto his bed. If he knew his mom, she'd knock on his door again in another five minutes anyway.
Just like Jon expected, he was pulled out of sleep by another knock on the door, although it didn't sound like his mom's normal knock. It was definitely her voice saying "Honey, I think you should get out of bed now," though.
Jon looked up at his clock: 6:27?
He was fully awake now. How had his mom let time get away from her? Oh well, he would just have to skip his shower today. As Jon was getting dressed and packed up for school, he looked at his hiding spot under the bed, and something inside him made him get the stone out and toss it into his backpack. He knew that just yesterday he thought it was too dangerous to bring to school again, but now he felt like he didn't really care so much.
He wondered why that was for a moment, but put it out of his mind as he tumbled down the stairs for breakfast.
