2.2 My casa is your casa - pt III

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Content: See Introduction for general content notes. 

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I sit on the kitchen chair, legs pulled up to keep my feet off the cold tiled floor, watching Steve search through cupboards and delve into the fridge for something breakfast-able. He doesn't really seem to know where anything is and it takes a while to assemble tea, toast, and Shredded Wheat, which he digs out from the back of a cabinet and regards as if he has never seen it before.

"Sorry, there doesn't seem to be any coffee. Will you cope?"

"Uh huh. As long as I don't have to do any...words putting into sentence-ing. Maybe you could remind me to blink occasionally."

"I'll get some for next time. There's a list. Debbie shops."

My heart does a little skip as I note the 'next time' but, trying to be cool, I just nod.

"So what would you like to do today?"

"You don't...have other plans?"

"No. Oh. Do you?" He looks disappointed.

Quickly, I shake my head, "No, just checking," and get a beaming smile in return. This man has whatever the opposite of poker face is. It's kind of adorable. "Nothing in my busy social schedule until mandatory therapy on Monday."

"Ugh. But good, you can stay until Monday then. Oh, err, if you want to?"

Being more used to the sort of blokes that act like you've gone all bunny boiler if you're still there when they get out of the shower, this takes a second to process, then I nod again (I was not kidding about that words sentences thing). That settled, he goes back to his toast.

"Um, I might have to go and buy some stuff...if I'm staying. Your bathroom has basically nothing in it. I need stuff to make this," I wave in the general direction of my head, "acceptable for human viewing."

He eyes me appraisingly. "I have shampoo."

"Yeah, no, it's going to take more than that."

"Okay, we'll shop for girl stuff. Or if you'd rather go home and pick up some things?"

"God no," pops out before I can stop it, followed by an involuntary groan as I realise, "I'd better call home though. They won't have noticed last night, but they'll freak if I don't show up by lunchtime."

"How old are you again?"

"Apparently fourteen. I did live on my own at university, well, with people," I say in my defense, "but I didn't Live Up To The Responsibility. Can I use your phone?"

"Sure, cupboard in the hall."

"Can you even hear it from in there?"

"Not really. That's sort of the point."

"I stayed with a friend."
"A boy who is a friend."
"No. I've known him for years. From...university."
"I don't know, I'm not sure what we're doing yet."
"I'm fine."
"Yes, I've got my pills."
"Really, I'm fine. I'll see you later."

Handily Steve is skinny enough that his jeans more or less fit me, though the legs are far too long. He laughs when he sees how much I have to roll them up.

"Five foot four is perfectly average I'll have you know."

"For a gnome maybe." I try to smack him with my boot but he is quicker than me and dodges out of the way.

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