Still breathing | Original story

Chapter Thirteen: Keep Moving

Word count: 2800

Connor stayed upstairs the entire night, he didn't come down the next morning either. It was like he was trying to stay away my from either me or Caleb, but I didn't know which. I decided that I needed to patch things up with him so when Em handed out the food the next morning I took a bowl upstairs. I found Connor sitting on one of the beds, his head hung low like he was thinking. I knocked on the door and he looked up at me. He sighed but made a head gesture which I took to mean 'come in'. I sat down on the bed and felt the softness curve into my body. It felt like forever since I'd had the pleasure to sleep in a bed and I felt kind of envious of him.
"You know I would like to get along with you," I said as I passed the food over to him, he looked at it suspiciously.
"I feel like there might be poison in this now. Not a very good opening line." He half smiled and tucked in. I smiled back nervously as I waited for him to continue. "It's not you I dislike, it's Caleb."
"I know you don't like me as well," I replied and he cocked his head to one side, "but that's fine I just think that-"
"What do you mean? If I didn't like you I would've 'accidentally' shot you yesterday," he said to me and ate some more food. A part of me felt like he was joking about the shooting, but I wasn't too sure. "Although, honestly, I have no idea to use the thing. I aimed for the skeletons head yesterday and got it's foot-" I cut through his sentence before he could go off topic.
"-but you told Pat you didn't..." I trailed off, my mind whizzing around in a state of confusion. "You told her to keep an eye on me." He had said that to her the day before, I was sure I wasn't hearing things.
"Oh that," he said after a moment of thought, nodding in understanding. I waited for what felt like a century whilst he put more food in his mouth and swallowed it. "I didn't mean it in a bad way." He laughed like he found my misunderstanding hilarious. "I can tell she likes you so I was making sure she looked after you too. She needed a little push, she talks a lot now but when she first met me she barely wanted to know me. Think she still misses her best friend but right now Pat needs a someone like you, a friend she can be close to," he told me but I felt like he wasn't saying something.
"Aren't you already her friend?"
"Well yeah, but she needs a girl don't she?" He said. "I'm crap at all the emotion, touchy-feely stuff."
"Oh," was all I said. He really did care about Pat, he was looking out for her. I got up and walked over to the door.
"I'm sure she'd rather talk to you more than me," I told him.
"Why?"
"She likes you." I looked back. "A lot actually."
"Serious?" He looked so happy in that moment.
"Well duh! Anyone could see that." He nodded his head some more.
"Oh cool," he said casually but a grin was permanently plastered onto his face.
"So we good?" I questioned. It took him a minute to register I was speaking to him but then he nodded more vigorously.
"Yeah of course man." He smiled and I returned it before exiting the room.

I made my way down to the living room again and saw Caleb eating his food. He was the only one in the room and I saw that it was the perfect time to have a talk with him. I ruffled his short ginger hair.
"Hey bud," I tried to smile at him and he grinned up at me, it was nice to see him settling in. I hated that we would have to move soon and I doubted the group would take him in so it would be just the two of us. Don't get me wrong, he seemed like a good kid but I was crap at looking after Ella and she was older than me so how on earth could I look after a little kid? I shook the thought away, I just had to focus on the present.
I sat cross-legged on the ground.
"How old are you?" Simple first question.
"Nine," his little voice spoke. "Ten in... " His face was contorted in concentration and he began to count on his fingers. "Ten days."
"Wow, the big one oh! Little man's growing up I see." He laughed at me and nodded. Then his smile was suddenly wiped off his face.
"I was meant to be having a party. All my friends were invited. Dad said he was gonna make me a massive cake." He spread his arms out wide. "This big!"
"Was your dad a baker?" I asked and his eyes went bright .
"Yep! He worked in a patis..." He paused and tried to say it again, "patesery." He furrowed his brows.
"Patisserie?" I helped and he nodded.
"Dad said he was gonna fit in at the safe house. Said everyone loves cake." My eyes widened, was I hearing that right?
"Safe house?" No one had ever mentioned such a thing. It felt like someone had shined a light in a dark tunnel and I was finally seeing an exit.
"Yep. Dad said it was a hospital. Up north. Manchester he said. He was always saying it over and over again. So he wouldn't forget," he told me and I heard a chair scrape back from the kitchen.
"Shh. Don't tell anyone, okay?" I told him and he just looked at me like he didn't understand. After a short time, he put out his little pinky finger.
"Pinky promise," he spoke. I quickly wrapped my little finger around his.