Cinderblock Garden (Adopted by All Time Low)

Remembering Sunday

Juliet's POV

"JAY YOUR DAMN DOG CHEWED UP ANOTHER PAIR OF MY SHOES!"  Alex dumped a pair of what was once Converses in front of me.  I shrugged and patted Tré.

"Alex, he's just a puppy.  He doesn't know any better."

"He has a thousand fucking toys that you insisted on buying him at the pet store?  Why doesn't he chew those?"  I counted the dog toys on the floor.  17.  There were 17 toys.

"Maybe your shoes smell better," I suggested.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure.  By the way, we have to go set up Joey's surprise party later.  I'll pick the cake up on my way home.  Did you wrap the presents?"

I nodded, "Yeah.  They're wrapped."

Jack burst into the house, "WHERE'S THE DOGGY?" He shouted and Tré trotted over to him.  He rubbed Tré all over.

"Who's a good puppy?  You're a good puppy.  A good, good, puppy," Jack cooed.  Tré was lapping it all up.

"Why is Jack here?" I asked Alex, "Is he going to the interview, too?"

"No.  He's going to watch you while I'm gone so you don't invite other filthy animals into our house."  Wow.  It's been two weeks since Tré wandered into our yard.  Just wow.

"I'll be back in 2 hours.  Please don't burn down the house, okay?  I love you. Supervise Jack.  Bye."  Alex left and it was just me, Jack, and Tré.

"So, what do you usually do when Alex leaves you home alone?" Jack asked me

I shrugged, "I usually watch American Horror Story and eat shitty food."

"Well, I have an idea.  Let's make cookies!" Jack said cheerfully.

"Like, from the cookie dough in the freezer?"

"No!  From scratch.  Alex probably has ingredients around here somewhere," Jack rummaged around in the cabinets and pulled out a bag of flour and some chocolate chips.

"But Alex told me not to burn down the house."

"We won't burn it down, trust me."  I didn't trust Jack on that one.  Not even a tiny bit.

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"Dude!  Stop spraying flour everywhere!"

"This is mixing, Jay.  It's not spraying."

"Look at the counter!  Just look at it!" A layer of fine white powder covered the countertop thanks to Jack's less than orderly mixing skills.

"It's not that bad.  We'll clean it up later," Jack said and finished stirring the cookie dough, "I think it's ready to put in the oven."

"Did you add all the ingredients?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"And there's no surprises?"

"Not unless you count my dick."

"Okay then," I said, "Let's put them in the oven."

About 15 minutes later the house was filled with the scent of cookies baking.  I realized this and had basically an existential crisis during our fifth round of MarioKart.

"Uh, Jay, are you okay?" Jack asked me, "You just kinda zoned out."

"I'm fine," I said, "It's just, I remember this smell.  Back from when I was like, really little.  Before..."

"Before what?"

So I told Jack my story.  Until I was about 8 years old I had a family, like with a mother and father.  We lived in a small suburban neighborhood just outside Pasadena.  I had a pretty normal life.  But then my parents left.  They just abandoned us one day.  They didn't leave a note or tell anyone where they were going, they just left.