The boy & the brownies.

One.

"Hi." I jump up from my bed searching for the voice. A boy about my age stands in the middle of my room. And I don't know the boy.
"Who the hell are you and how did you get in?" He puts his hand out for me to shake and I hesitantly put my hand into his. His hands are warm and calloused.
"I'm Oliver, and your window is unlocked." I nod slowly, letting go of his hand. I stand up from my spot on my bed. Unlike most boys, he doesn't tower over me. Only taller by a few inches. His black hair is sticking up in many different directions and his gray eyes are constantly darting around. But it was not a dull, boring gray. But a vibrant and bright gray. With emotion swirling around.
"Are you gonna stare into my eyes all day like some kinda mind reader or.." He trails off. I snap out of my daze.
"Why are you here?" I ask.
"I'll tell you only if you tell me your name." I never liked telling people my name. Normally they laugh or just look at me like I'm crazy. Curse my dad for giving me my name.
"Chai." I say quietly. Surprising he doesn't laugh or stare at me. He answers.
"Cool,"
"So, can you tell me why you climbed through my window?" I asked. He smiles a toothy grin, showing off perfect white teeth.
"Well, everyday when I'm driving home from work." He begins. He has a car. I don't.
"I pass by this place. And my friends always say that's it haunted or that no one lives there. But I knew it wasn't true. There was times when I would see a shadow, or the lights turning on. And one day a few months ago I saw a lady making brownies." My mom.
"And I wanted to see if there was more cause they looked really good. So here I am."
"So, you climbed through some randoms persons window for...brownies?" I ask. He nods.
"Yea."
"Okay, well I actually do have brownies. Want some?" I ask. His face visibly brightens and he flashes me another one of his boyish grins. I don't know why I offered. I don't know why I'm still talking to him. But maybe I need this. It's been months.
"Sure." He says. I motion for him to follow me. Heading down the stairs. Passing 'family' photos. If you could call us that. My mom was always the one to make sure the pictures were taken. One every six months. Both me and Elijah dreaded those days. Now I wish for a million more. I walk into the kitchen and tell him to sit on the stool. I pull out the batch of brownies from the fridge. I made them yesterday. I place them on the counter and take a seat next to Oliver.
"I made them yesterday, so they should be good." I tell him. He nods and begins shoving the brownies in his mouth.
Only a few minutes later all twelve of the brownies are gone. He smiles sheepishly.
"Sorry I ate them all." He says. I shrug.
"I'm glad you did, no one else would." I answer. More like, there's no one else to eat them.