Come What May

16. family

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FAMILY

—

• wednesday, april 7th •

I wake up to a shrill ringing in my ears.

Not the usual ringing in my ears that either comes from my alarm blaring at five a.m. and not the one that comes along with the headache that I always wake up with either. This time, it's my phone, and it's been ringing for the past twenty minutes at least.

"Asif," I hear Storm hiss, and suddenly, I'm hyper-aware of everything. The ringing of my phone, Storm's yawn, the ringing of my doorbell, the ringing in my ears. Everything. "Shut that up."

Yawning, I groan, ending the call and shoving my face into my pillow again. Hopefully, it blocks out the shrill doorbell and the pounding of someone's fists against it, most likely the old ladies who live below me, begging for me to fix the leak in the bathroom.

Lazily, I blink my eyes open, forcing them to stay wide as I glance at Storm, who's sprawled out on the other side of the bed, glasses still on their face, chest rising and falling steadily.

"Storm," I mumble quietly, rubbing my eyes as if that'll get rid of the sleep that's coating them. Reaching over, I take their glasses off their face, praying that I don't poke their eyes out in the process, and set them on the table. "Better."

They just hum in response, shoving their own face into the pillow and mumbling something under their breath, something that's way too incoherent for me to comprehend.

Just as I'm about to drift off into sleep again, and ignore the fact that Storm Renaldi, the fashion photographer is in my bed, sleeping next to me, save for the pillow barrier that isn't even a barrier anymore between us, the doorbell rings again.

"Asif! We've been here for ages!"

And at once, I know who it is.

"Oh God," I whisper, blindly feeling around for my own glasses and perching them on my nose. "Storm. My moms are here. Oh no. They're gonna— oh no."

If Storm hears me, they don't react. All they do is grunt and say, "The fuck?"

"My parents are here," I mutter, stumbling out of bed and running my fingers through my hair because Jen never likes it when my hair is a mess. "Out of bed. Get out of bed!"

That seems to do the trick.

Shooting upright, they rub their eyes once, slowly glancing around the whole room, and then, finally landing on me. "Fuck. Should I be leaving through the fucking balcony or something?" they whisper through the repeated ringing of my phone.

God, Mom and Jen could be the most frustrating people on this planet sometimes.

I still love them though, so I just sigh and shake my head. "No," I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut and only re-opening them when the random bout of early morning dizziness has passed. "Just— go brush your teeth or something. Wait, actually... Wait here. Open the door, keep my parents entertained. I'll brush my teeth."

Before Storm can protest, and I know that they want to protest, I slip into the bathroom and trust that they know how to talk to adults. Although, every time they've spoken to an adult, they've ended up snapping at them.

To be fair, those adults got what they deserved.

I just hope that they don't snap at Mom or Jen, that won't be a very good first impression, and Mom and Jen are all about first impressions.