A Story To Tell | Book 2

.30.

:::KEIRA:::

When I woke up it was six-thirty in the morning, but I'd expected for Chris to at least be up before me and he wasn't. Instead, he was still laid out on his living room floor near the TV with his Xbox controller in his hand with a game of Terris Haunt constantly going. He was most definitely going to be mad when he woke up because although he was asleep, the game was still going.

I was too damn hungry to just sit there in the bed so I got up and made myself useful. I was sure that if I'd cooked Chris something to eat too, he wouldn't mind me being all up in his cabinets and his refrigerator. Even if he did care, it didn't bother me none, it was free food for me.

The whole time Chris was laid out on the floor asleep, I'd prepped up some scrambled eggs with bacon, fried ham, sausages split in half, pancakes, and hash browns. He had some of the best stuff and I was too stoked to be in the kitchen, throwing down, showing him what I could do.

It's moments like this that made me wish I had my own place to live instead of with my mom. Surely, I can take care of myself and I've been doing a fantastic job raising Yasmin. She's as healthy as can be and there's nothing Bruce could say about me being a bad mother. I'm far from a bad mother, even when my own mother refused to be a good one. I learned from my daddy and I'm thankful for him.

Just thinking about him as I fixed my plate to eat, I wanted to cry at the fact that he still hadn't called me. I set my plate onto the bed as I sat down and grabbed my phone to call my father again.

I saw that I'd had several missed calls by my mom and I didn't want to talk to her so I blocked her number to keep her from blowing me up any further. Afterwards, I dialed my father's number and his phone had went straight to voice mail. It wasn't like him to have his phone off. He always hit me right back when he saw that he'd missed my call. Something wasn't right and I could feel it in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.

When I set my phone down and grabbed my plate, sitting back into the headboard, the knocking of the headboard against the wall must've startled Chris because he was up and off of the floor as if someone was breaking in his spot. The stupid look on his face was too hard not to laugh at as I burst out, darn near dropping down onto the floor to roll around. When he saw me, he sucked his teeth and looked around, viewing his surroundings as if he were still lost.

That's when the scent of my delicious breakfast had hit his nose and he noticed the plate in my hand. He walked up the little stair into the kitchen and noticed his plate of food nicely resting on the counter, still steaming.

"Thanks." He said as he grabbed the plate from off of the counter and examined it as if he was foolishly crazy. I sucked my teeth and poked my lips out at him and cleared my throat.

"What? You think I'm going to poison you or something?" I asked him.

"Shit...ain't no telling with you." He shook his head and sat his plate back down. I rolled my eyes and picked up my fork to dig in. Fuck what he talking about. I have some crazy ways about myself. I'm Latina. Latin women are crazy! BUT! I'd never go so far as to poisoning people's food. I don't have the drugs to be capable of such a thing. But if I did...

"No one is poisoning anybody. I just did it to be nice. You let me stay here even when you didn't want to, but I appreciate that. And cooking you breakfast is showing you my appreciation." I explain.

He seemed okay with that so he picked his plate up again and walked over towards the bed where I was seated and dropped down right in front of me. I smiled at him and continued breaking my pancakes apart.

"Why do you have pancakes and no syrup?" I asked him, wondering. It had been eating at me since I'd started cooking when I realized that he didn't have a drop of syrup in sight.