Leaving The Friendzone

Chapter 3: Coming Home

POINT OF VIEW: Cory Kensington

I walk out of the sports centre to my car which is parked across the lot. I quickly pop the trunk and drop my gym bag into it, shutting it with a bang, before sitting down in the driver's seat. I shut the door and flick on the radio. Finding nothing good on, I settle for some mash-up of a few songs, before I see Ella walking out of the building, her now wet hair loosely sticking to her neck with her bag slung over her shoulder, as she jogs past me to the rear of the car,  before tugging the door open and taking a seat on the leather seat and pulling the seatbelt across her chest, fastening it with a click. "How's your arm?" She asks, picking a string off the bottom of her purple shirt.

"It'd be better if you didn't claw me." I retort, pulling my own seatbelt on and starting the car.

POINT OF VIEW: Ella O'Connor

We pull into the driveway, Cory grabs the keys, and we both get out of the car, opening and shutting the doors in sync. "I'll grab the stuff from the trunk." Cory states from the other side of the car. Before I can protest, I can hear his quick footsteps shuffling toward the trunk. I roll my eyes and begin to walk to the front door, holding it open for Cory as he walks through it, kicking off his Nike shoes and running upstairs. I lightly shut the door behind me before pulling my shoes off and grabbing them by the laces, padding across the white carpet and up the stairs.

Once I get to Cory's room, I find him sitting at his computer desk, snacking on a Swiss Roll, the wrapper sitting on the desk beside him, the bags thrown on the bed. 

"After 11 years of hanging around at your house, I've still never been able to find your junk stash." I say, flinging open his closet door and standing on the pads of my feet,  trying to get a look at the top shelf. He spins the chair around and looks at me struggling. He gets to his feet and walks over to me, running his arm over the surface of the shelf, proving that it was clear. I take his seat on the computer chair.

"And after 11 years, you still haven't gotten much taller." He points out, walking to his desk and picking up the Swiss Roll wrapper, swiping up a dab of cream with his thumb, and popping it into his mouth while making a satisfied slurping noise to irritate me, before walking over to the garbage and crumpling up the paper and plastic, throwing it in. I scowl and roll my eyes. He just smirks.  

"And that's a good thing." He says, walking up behind the chair and lifting it off the ground. I fall off and land with a thud, letting out a high-pitched squeak, my tailbone beginning to throb. He spins the chair around and reclaims his seat with a triumphant grin. I get up and move on to his bed, pressing my hands on the mattress behind me, leaning back. "What's a good thing? Me not finding your food, or my being vertically challenged?" I ask.

"Well, both. The first one because I don't like it when you take my food, and the second because it's another thing that I can bug you about." He states, swiping his finger in my direction. I shake my head, bringing my feet off of the ground and bringing them on to the bed, crossing them, stretching my skinny jeans around the back of my knees. After a few uncomfortable minutes, I swap that position for having my knees bent up in front of me and leaning up against the navy blue painted wall. I hear a faint ringing noise and Cory reaches into his pocket, saying, "Oh shit." before pressing the screen of his phone.

"Oh hey, Mom." He says into his phone. He pauses for a few seconds, waiting for his Mom to finish talking. He sighs. "Alright, see you in like an hour." Another short pause. "Love you too, bye." He states, bringing the phone away from his ear with a groan, before running his hand through his shaggy light golden brown hair. "My mom wants me to pick her up from work." He answers my unasked question.

"That's fine, I'm probably going to head back to my place anyways. Going to clean up... the works." I state, crawling from my spot on the bed to the other end, where my abandoned gym bag sits unattended. "Mm-kay. You need a ride?" He asks, clicking his phone off and shoving it in the pocket of his jeans. "Nah, I'm only around the corner, plus it's in the opposite direction of where you're going." I explain, slinging my bag over my shoulder. He gets to his feet. "Call me if you need anything." He says, holding his arm out for a quick hug. I wrap an arm around his side for a split second, before swinging the door open with a quick, "See ya," Before shutting it behind me. I quickly tap down the stairs, sliding on a pair of flats that I have hidden in the closet, and walk out the door, shutting it lightly behind me.