I slept like my eyelids were two fat elephants and my head was a bowling ball filled with heavy thoughts. I wondered if my bed sank to the ground from all that pressure. My woolly covers slid down, past my chest and belly button as the hand that was pulling it down rested on my stomach. The cold shiver that ran through me woke me up. When I opened my eyes, I saw Lucas staring back.
"Good morning," he said. He took his hand off as I sat up and rubbed my forehead. Lucas straightened, making his eyes look a little shadowy. "Morning headache?"
"Something like that." I gave him a small smile. "Thanks for asking."
"Look who's being nice," he said, raising an eyebrow. I didn't say anything to that. "Did hugging me twelve minutes straight make you realize something?"
"It wasn't twelve minutes. More like ten," I rebutted, slightly piqued. "And what do you mean by 'something'?"
He scratched his neck and that's when I noticed he had his phone in his otherhand. "Now's not the time I would really talk about that." His sudden answer made me shift my gaze back to him. "You look like you're about to fall back asleep. So, being the babysitter I am, I'm gonna make you wake up. It's 8 a.m, by the way."
"I hate you, you know that?" I glared at him and his lips twitched.
"I know you dislike me very much, but you don't hate me," he said. I mouthed 'whatever' and got to my feet.
"We're going to Cyrus's house in a few hours or so. I left you breakfast."
I took twenty minutes to do my morning routine and went downstairs, a little curious to see what awaited me in the kitchen. I pulled up the sleeves of my grey cardigan and saw a plate on the island, covered with a second plate. I lifted the second plate and felt my eyes go wide. There was a fork stuck in the scrambled eggs, two small strawberry jam sandwiches without crust, and to the side was a glass of orange juice. My jaw dropped as my throat tightened. The corners of my lips tugged down into a baby‐frown as tears clogged the corners of my eyes.
I grabbed a barstool and tucked my legs under the island counter. The last time I ate something this well made with care, was when I was younger. This reminded me of my mom's food, her daily kisses before I could eat and go play outside with my dad. I missed them so much. I held the fork in midair, just thinking about them. I just needed them to be close now.
After I ate, I washed my utensils and started up the stairs. Lucas was such a good cook, but I'm surprised he would even make something like this for us. I went towards the guest room to the left of the staircase. I opened the door to Lucas' unofficial bedroom and stuck my head inside. Lucas slammed his laptop shut, making me gasp and start wheezing when I choked.
"What's wrong with you?" I placed a hand on my chest to calm down.
"What's wrong with me?" Lucas said in disbelief. "Don't you know to knock before you come in?"
My mouth was hanging open, deadpan. "I just came to thank you for the food." I added, "You jerk."
"You seem to be thanking me a lot lately," he said, almost smiling.
"Why would that be?" Urgh, I wanted to just ram the door shut and storm away. Instead, I looked at the laptop on his lap as he sat back against the headboard of the bed. "I didn't know you brought one of your other laptops here," I said.
"I do a lot of things in this house that you don't know about," he said shrugging.
"Care to explain?" I already didn't like where this was going. When he winked at me, I knew he wasn't going to answer. "Are we going to Cyrus's house yet?"
