Bad Teacher (Temp Title)

12| Missing Man

Casey

The yelled greeting from my mother and father's voices from downstairs was the last thing I heard before the front door slammed shut.

It seemed that my parents were in a rush this fine Saturday morning. My mother spent the entirety of last night making her famous funeral lasagne. Yes, mother Shay made about five trays of lasagne whenever somebody passed. Her leaving this time meant arriving early to help the family with any remaining ends they need cleaned up before the service started.

Today it was to be the Guillaume's.

I had never been close with their family like my mother was, so I wasn't sure how Mr Guillaume died last week. I didn't even care to ask. My mind had not been in this reality for a very, very long time. All thoughts were split between school-which were homework and he who shall not be named.

Thoughts surrounding that day gets pushed aside, like I had done every day for about a week now. I couldn't think about it right now. Couldn't think about him.

Or the impossible coldness I experienced from him when he returned from his emergency.

Movement in my peripheral had me glancing up, and my brother stepped into my doorframe, arms behind his back. His smile bright, gleeful and downright annoying. It scared the shit out of me. And had me completely forgetting about the current homework assignment I had been busy with before he had so rudely interrupted me.

Today, he was wearing black sweatpants and a plaint t-shirt. Feet were bare and hair messy, giving away that he had just woken up. I had heard his bedroom door open a few minutes ago before our parents left, but being so engrossed in my work I had to complete meant zoning out to the fullest.

I sighed impatiently with a shake of my head. "I'm too afraid to ask."

His head tilted slightly when he chuckled, and then stepped further into my room, hands still hidden behind him. I tried my best to sneak a peak, convinced that he had something delicious. I could smell the spicy aroma in the air.

"You stole some of mom's funeral lasagne, didn't you?"

I wanted him to say yes. I knew he would. And I would love the idiot for it.

He smiled in triumph and presented me with a plate and fork I eagerly grabbed. The spicy aroma hit me with a hunger. Indicating my need to still have my first meal for the day I moaned in delight as I took the first bite.

"Ew," he mumbled, frowning at the noisy sounds.

And because I knew how he hated it when I talked with my mouth full, I taunted him through a bite. "It's so good. Thank you."

His frown turned into a murderous glare within seconds. "Don't. You know I hate that shit," he stated, his tone threatening. I loved pissing him off on occasion. I sometimes forget how riled up he got. "Enjoy the stolen funeral lasagne with your mouth shut."

My eyes rolled at his dramatic attitude but eagerly took another huge bite and almost whimpered at how good it tasted. The amount of cheese that my mother put on was a bit much, but a part of me enjoyed it. Especially the cheese strings between bites and the way the saltiness of it blended perfectly with the spice of the meat and pasta. Mine didn't taste as good as hers but practice was always due, especially since I liked the occasional cooking.

Ashton mumbled beneath his breath and turned to walk away.

"We'll order takeout for dinner tonight!" His voice carried back to me before his retreat heard through the soft thumbs on his bare feet as he walked down the stairs.