Terrible Habits

Burning and Crashing.

I wake up the next morning on a bed. Who said a change of pace was a bad thing? My eyes adjust to the light that is poking through the blinds and I roll over on my other side. I peak over the side of the bed and I see Luke sprawled on the floor. I lean against my arm and study him. He is lying on his back with his right arm draped across his forehead and the other resting on his stomach. I suppress a smile and roll back over and check my phone, it is 8:45. It's refreshing waking up without a massive hangover. I actually might eat breakfast this morning.

Breakfast!

That's how I can thank him. I push myself out of the warm bed and maneuver around Luke, careful not to wake him as I opened the door to the kitchen. To my relief, Jay and the red head are gone. I make my way through the small kitchen, opening the various cabinets, trying to find something that I could make. There is cereal? No, I actually want to cook. I had never made a meal for myself other than microwaveable dinners.

Pancake mix, I grab the box. This should be easy enough. I finish going through the cabinets grabbing everything I need to make the mix. I grab the pan and turn to the stove turning it up to high heat and scoop the batter on the skillet.

I am a pro.

I grab my purse from the night before and I go through the belongings. I have the check that my father had left me. I still have one waiting for me at Hadley's. I am hoping that they don't talk enough to know that I picked up two checks. That would make it $4,000, well $3,000 after I paid my ticket. I can survive on that for a week and then my parents would come to their senses and re-instate my money. Once my mother left, my father would be putty in my hands, he always was. This is only a temporary situation, I am sure of it.

A sharp burning smell enters my nose.

Shit!

I immediately turn my attention back to the pancakes. I snatch a spatula and try to flip them, when I finally manage, they are black underneath. Panicked, I flip one onto the burner.

"Shit," I mutter, trying to pull the pan away from the stove, while also trying to clean up the batter catastrophe. I move the pan to the cold burner and reach to wipe up the batter as my finger touches the stove.

"Fuck!" I yell, pulling my hand back. I stick my finger in my mouth, trying to cool the burn.

"What's going on?" I hear someone ask behind me. I turn to face them, noticing Luke, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"So I thought I would make breakfast," I smile, sticking my hand on my hip. I watch his eyes widen to the spot on the stove. I turn to see the towel that I was using to wipe up the mess, catch fire on the red burner.

"Fuck!" I repeat again, taking the towel and throwing it in the sink. I immediately turn on the faucet while Luke runs around me to turn off the burner.

I exhale a sigh of relief that all catastrophes were avoided when the fire alarm goes off. I wince from the loud beeping noise as Luke runs around me to unplug the device from the wall. He sighs and turns to look at me.

"Pancakes?" I make an attempt to smile and hold up the three burned pancakes.

I watch as his mouth breaks into a smile and then I start laughing. So much for a thank you...

"Jesus," he laughs and joins me at the breakfast bar.

"I'm sorry! I woke up and I wanted to find a way to say thank you for last night and I thought I could make you breakfast, but I didn't just want to pour you a bowl of cereal so I thought pancakes," I let out a breath, realizing that I had been rambling.

"You didn't have to do that," he smiles, running his hand through his hair.

"I know, but I wanted to," I make eye contact with him and then I look away. "Anyways, looks like my attempt at cooking was a fail."

"First attempt?" he cocks his head to the side at the question.

"Pretty much," I shrug my shoulders.

"What the fuck was that?" I see Jay poke his head around the door of his bedroom, pulling a shirt on covering his bare chest.

"Pancakes?" I ask, lifting the plate with a smile on my face.

He stops in his tracks and then shrugs. "Sure," he didn't seem to mind that they were burnt. "Who are you?" he asks, taking the plate from my hands.

"Lenny," I said, "We met last night."

He grimaces, probably from the leftovers of a hangover, or from the fire alarm, I couldn't tell.

"Speaking of last night," Luke spins around on the bar stool to look at Jay. "What happened to the red head?"

His eyebrows pull together and then realization hits his face. "She called a cab when I left her on the couch to go to sleep."

"Of course," Luke looks back at me raising his eyebrows in amusement. "How about cereal?" Luke turns back to address me.

"Sounds perfect," I sigh.

I'm really sure what I am supposed to do with myself after breakfast. I load the dishwasher, something that I had never done in my life when Luke went to shower. I actually wiped the counter with a washrag and soap, something I never even dreamed of doing. I am putting away the ingredients into the cabinets when I see Luke come out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist and I stare because he didn't know I am looking. I look away as he shut the door to his bedroom to change.

Not even five minutes later Luke re-emerges in a fresh set of clothes and joins me on the couch.

"Do you want to shower?" he offers but a shake my head.

"I should probably get going," I say. Where I was going was another question, but I know when I had over stayed my welcome.

"Where?" he asks and I look into those golden eyes again and I feel forced to tell the truth.

"I don't know, somewhere?" It is the best I could offer.

"How about a plan of action?" He suggests.

"What kind of plan?" I narrow my eyes.

He holds up a finger indicating for me to wait as he grabs a piece of paper from the computer and a pen and then joins me back on the couch.

"Ok, this is you," he draws a stick figure on the top of the page and writes Lenny next to it.

"Ok." I try not to smile as I watch him draw on the piece of paper.

"Alright so plan of action is broken down into two categories," he draws arrows from the stick figure down to the left and right side of the page. "House and job." He labels them accordingly and I swallow. Both of these courses were something that I had no idea how to accomplish.

"I don't know how..." I say quietly and I feel my heart beating in my chest.

"It will be easy," he assures me. "Do you have any...money on you?"

"$2,000, hopefully $4,000 soon."

"$3,000." He corrects me and I eye him. "You still owe for the ticket."

I roll my eyes "Alright, potentially $3,000, that will only last me a week," I sigh and he looks up at me.

"I can help you make it last longer," he offers. "I have a friend who is looking for a roommate, only $500 a month."

I run my hand through my hair and then I eye him. "Why are you helping me?" I ask.

I watch him open his mouth to respond and then close it. He shuts his eyes and then re-opens them, speaking with honesty. "I don't know."

And I trust him. I know that he is telling the truth and I know that he is one of the good ones; I just feel it. So I agree to let him help me, besides, what was the worst that could happen?