My Best Friend [COMPLETE]

Chapter 1 - Settling In

"Where do you want this?" asked a strained Thomas.

"Over there, please." I said pointing.

"Pointing does no help when I can't see." he repositioned the vanity in his arms.

"Go straight." I walked with him. "Now turn...." I stopped to come up with how far he needed to turn.

"Please finish that thought. This thing is really heavy." he said.

"Turn like 45 degrees." I said. He turned almost immediately, and set the vanity down. He rolled his shoulders, and turned to looked at me.

"That weighed a ton!" he exclaimed. "What did you put in it?" he asked as I laughed.

"I left some of my stuff in there..." I trailed off. Mostly books, stuffed in the drawers. I didn't normally use makeup, and I owned so little that it wasn't worth leaving in the vanity. Thomas wedged opened a drawer.

"Seriously Madalyn?" he turned around, giving me a slight glare.

"What?" I giggled. "Can't a girl stash books in her vanity table?" I laughed harder. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "Careful of the ceiling! If you keep whipping me around I'm going to hit it!" I said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I slapped his back. "Put me down!" All of a sudden, I tumbled to the ground behind him. I hit the ground and he was laughing.

"You are a strange person, you do know that, right?" he sat down next to me. I sat up, and leaned on him. He rested his head on mine. We just sat there for a minute. This was our apartment. Ours.

"We still have to get bed frames and mattresses up," I pointed out.

"I'll get the frames if you get the mattresses," he said. "Unless you put books in those, too."

"No worries. I didn't, and deal." I stood up abruptly, and Thomas flopped over onto the ground., proceeding to frown. "Race ya!" I said, and bolted out the door.

Three hours later, we were finished arranging our entire apartment. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. I took the room further from the bathroom, because it was bigger. Thomas didn't really care either way. We split drawers and shelves in the bathroom, and decided that I would cook if he cleaned up afterwards. We decided to split the chores evenly, and switch who does which set of chores each week. It was noon when we had finally finished all the details of everything.

"Want to go get lunch?" I asked. "Or do you want to go to the grocery store and I can get stuff to make lunch. Also, we need to stock the fridge." I noted.

"I'm curious as to what kind of cooking I'm going to have to get used to, and you're right. groceries are needed. So store it is." he smirked, and I rolled my eyes.

I got everything we would need for that week, and Thomas was astounded.

"That much food just for lunch?" he was dumbfounded.

"Yes, I'm serving you a week's worth of meals for lunch." I said sarcastically. The cashier laughed silently. Thomas rolled his eyes at me. I pulled out some of the money my mom had given me.

"For food, because you don't have a job set up yet. Thomas' parents and I have the first month's rent, too." she had said.

I made sandwiches. Totally cliche, I thought. He wants me to make him a sandwich for lunch. But I did. I made steak, then sliced it, letting the juice drip into the bread, then I sliced cheese putting that on top of the meat. I grabbed some lettuce and spicy mustard, piling that on too. I handed him his sandwich on a plate, after adding some chips.

"Here you go." I said, and went back into the kitchen to make mine. I heard no words. I walked back into the room, and he was sitting on the couch, eating his sandwich, not making a single comment about the show he was watching.

"That good, huh?" I asked, realizing was half gone already. He nodded his head. He was right. I concurred, sitting next to him, after taking a bite out of my sandwich. It really was good. 

"Okay, you need to make these often, they're amazing." he said, and then stuffed his mouth.

"If I'm going to make these a lot I need a job..." I said. I looked at the flyer that had open jobs.

"I'll get one too if it helps with the creation of these sandwiches." he said.  

"You should get one anyways," I said. "You'll want money."

"True." he said, finishing his sandwich. I had only eaten about half of mine when he asked me if there was more.

"You can have the rest of mine," I said, laying back against the couch, offering it to him.

"Really? You aren't gonna finish?" he was amazed at me, but took the sandwich from my hands.

"No, I'm way too full for that. It's a filling sandwich," I closed my eyes.  

"Cool. More sandwich for me." he said, taking a bite of the sandwich.