Dangerous black ties

Muffins

After my shower, I ate a TV dinner in my room. Reading on my phone. Easily falling into slumber.

I decided to wake up early so I could make some muffins in the morning and hopefully catch the bus.

The ringing of my alarm woke me up. Groaning with pain, my body is sore and tight. I see freshly formed bruises as I change into my clothes. Looking in the mirror, I was satisfied that there wasn't any visible evidence of my dad's abuse. Choosing long pants and a long-sleeve shirt with a jacket. I walk into the kitchen, preparing chocolate chip muffins.

Once they were done, I grabbed some lunch bags and put one in each.

Yummy, my mama's recipe does it again!

I make sure to leave my dad some for once he wakes up.

I wash my dishes and grab my backpack, water, muffins, and my earbuds. As well as my phone charger.

I ran out the door to the bus stop. Making it just in time.

I ran into the building. I was a little bit early. About 15 minutes, I'd rather be early than late, I tell myself.

I hit the elevator button. Bing

I walk in once again, hitting the floor.

I lean my head back against the elevator. I wonder how many times I will have to ride the elevator before I don't feel scared.

Bing

I walk out; Dexter's not here. I set the muffin down on his desk and knocked on Me. Greyson's office.

No response.

I'm not going into his office; this is not happening.

I fold the bag and staple it to the hole, punching it, weaving a rubber band, and attaching it to the doorknob where he'd see it. I went to the break room, turned the light on, and read on my phone again.

The light was turned on.

"Did you leave this?" Mr. Greyson asked me curiously.

"Yes. I thought you might like some breakfast. If you don't want it, feel free to throw it away. It's just a muffin. I have one for Dexter as well." I say it with a small smile.

He simply nods.

Dexter walks in and asks, "Did you leave this?" His face was the same as Mr. Greyson's.

"Yes. I was just telling Mr. Grayson that it's just a muffin. Nothing special or anything; if you don't want it, you can just throw it away."

I say eating my own, which I made myself.

Dexter rips it open.

Taking a bite. His eyes widen in surprise.

"Where did you get this?" He asks with his mouth full.

Mr. Greyson opens the bag.

"Is it bad? Or something?" I ask, worrying.

Dexter swallows. "No! It's very good!"

Mr. Greyson finally takes a bite, and his eyes mimic Dexter's eyes, just less dramatic.

"So, where did you get them?" Dexter asks, looking at me seriously.

"My kitchen," I say with a small chuckle.

Mr. Greyson's jaw drops. "You made these?" His tone showed he was surprised.

"Yep. I do work as a baker on the weekends. I'd hope I could make some simple muffins." I say factually.

Mr. Greyson asks me surprisingly. "If I give you money for the ingredients, do you think you could make some for tomorrow morning? We are having an early meeting."

"Sure, do you want the same kind or something different?" I ask him.

"The same kind is fine; next time we can try something different." Mr. Greyson replies.

Dexter shoves his mouth, not even talking yet.

He points to Mr. Greyson's muffin. "Are you going to finish that?" He asks with his mouth slightly full.

He pulls it away.

"Yes. You already had yours." He said, Looking at him.

I've eaten half of mine. "You can have mine," I say, sliding it to him.

He slides it back to me. "I was just playing with him. You eat your muffin. Don't worry about me." He is slightly stern in a way.

"Here," Mr. Grayson tries to hand me a 100-dollar bill.

"The ingredients definitely do not cost that much; don't worry about it; it's like 20 dollars." He grabs my bag off my chair, unzips it, and slides the money in it before placing it back over my chair.

"Meet me in my office in 5 minutes." He says this, looking at me.

"Yes, sir," I say, throwing away my trash. My body is screaming in protest.

I clutch my jaw every now and then to conceal my pain.

"Are you alright?" Dexter says he watches me like a hawk.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, walking to the restroom to avoid further questions.

I check my watch and leave the bathroom. Softly knowing on Mr. Greyson's door. He hands me a list. "Go to the file room and get these for me."

"Yes, sir." I go to the caddy corner of the room and look through the disorganized files, gathering the ones he wants.

Leaning down to go through each drawer.

"Jesus, what did you do to your back?" Dexter asks me

I stand up abruptly.

"I already told you yesterday that I fell down some stairs. I'm fine." I am looking at the files, not him. So he cannot read my expressions.

"Have you gone to the doctor? That looks terrible." He asks me as he opens the safe.

I grabbed the last file.

"Yes. I'm fine." I mean scanning through the files.

He grabs something from the safe before walking out.

I sigh a breath of relief.

Thankfully, he didn't pry anymore.

I softly knocked on Mr. Grayson's door.

"Come in," he says immediately.

Dexter is in his office as well, handing him the item he took from the safe.

I hold out the files for him to take.

"Thank you," he says, taking them from me.

"Coffee black, please." He says this to me as Dexter walks out of the room.

"Yes, sir." I grab him a coffee mug and fill it, grab a napkin, and walk carefully to his office, knocking on the door softly.

"Come in." I set the coffee on his desk along with the napkin.