With Love, Étienne | ✓

Chapter Thirteen

MILO'S BAGS WERE AT MY FRONT DOOR.

I wasn't exactly sure in how to explain to my parents that he would be staying with us – for who even knew how long. Imagine walking up to your parents and saying you're best friend needed a place to stay and couldn't go home? Of course, there wasn't any way in which I could say no to him and neither could my parents. He had nowhere to go and I was the only one he felt comfortable enough to ask. However, I felt as though I was put on the spot and like he was almost demanding an answer from me right away such that saying no or even asking for some time to mull it over wasn't an option. I knew he didn't mean to push me against a wall and that he was simply running out of time to find somewhere new to stay.

I shut the door behind me with the heel of my foot and gestured around with my hand, "Make yourself at home."

Milo nodded and smiled, "Thanks Étienne."

Milo walked around with his hands stuffed in his pockets, like this was the first time he was here. He peered closer at the picture-frames hanging on the wall of my parents and I. It was mostly them posing politely while I was making some kind of face in the background – effectively ruining the photo. Milo displayed an indifferent expression while he examined them and I couldn't tell what was going on in his head.

"My parents are rarely around so don't worry about them being here all the time," I assured him while dragging his bags further in,"I set up the spare bedroom for you, by the way. I figured you would be more comfortable there."

"Great, great," he hummed and cast me a one-second glance, "But I just need to use your bathroom for a second so do you mind just taking my bags up and I'll be there in a few."

"Oh, sure," I shrugged and hauled his bag over my shoulder while grabbing the handle of his small suitcase. He didn't have a lot to bring over, strangely enough. When I went over to pick him up, I was expecting a lot more belongings, but this was all he seemed to have.

"You know where everything is anyway, so go ahead."

Milo disappeared around the corner and I struggled to drag his bags up the winding stairs. I had spent all of last night making sure the room was spotless and new covers donned the bed with a few pillows thrown casually on top. A window was situated on the ceiling, letting the light from outside pour in until it nearly hurt to look at it. Before, we used to use here as a storage room and my parents demanded that I shift everything from the drawers and wardrobe out and into the attic. I wasn't sure how many hours it had taken before my parents, mainly my mother, were happy that the room was clean enough for him in the morning.

I settled his belongings on the floor and turned around when I heard him making his way up the stairs.

"Look, I just wanted to say thanks again," Milo said when he walked in, "I really do appreciate it."

"It's not a problem. You don't have to keep saying thank you, you know. We're practically family at this stage," I waved him off, "Stay as long as you need to."

"I promise I'll get everything sorted as soon as I can," he reassured me, "I won't be here long. You know how much I hate barging in on others' homes."

Although his words were saying one thing, his personality was saying another. I knew Milo and therefore, I knew how much he loved being in the guest company of others. The special treatment, the free room and food – it was right up his ally. I realized my thoughts sounded bitter but they didn't mean to be. None of us were perfect and I was okay with the fact that Milo was like this. He was still a good friend to me overall and I wasn't going to jeopardize my friendship with him over something so small. I was sure there were certain aspects about me that he didn't like, either.

"Hey, you know what?" he suddenly spoke up, "I'm feeling a little hungry. Can I order some take-out here?"

"Actually, we have some stuff in the kitchen if you want?" I suggested, "I did the shopping the other day so I think we have some frozen stuff."

"I'm really craving some Domino's pizza though," he frowned, "And some garlic bread. Maybe some fries on the side too."

Normally, my parents hated when we would order from outside because of how much the smell would waft around the rest of the house. It was why I was usually only allowed if there was a special occasion, like a birthday or something similar. But Milo was already scrolling through his phone and I realize it wouldn't have mattered if I said no. His phone was held up to his ear within seconds and I could hear the distant dialling ringtone.

"Oh, sure. Go ahead then," I mumbled in an awkward tone and lowered my voice when he placed a finger on his lips, "Get whatever you want. I have to go do some work right now but give me a shout if you need me."

"Sure thing," Milo mouthed, "Thanks, man."

***

"Étienne!"

Milo's voice sounded through the house and I sighed and placed my pen down on my study desk. I ran a rough hand down the side of my face and forced a friendlier expression on my face when I poked my head out of my room.

"Yes, Milo?"

"Can you get the door? I'm in the bathroom!" he called back, "I'll be two seconds! Just make sure he doesn't leave!"

I glanced back at the overflowing amount of work I had on my desk but wondered why something like this irritating me. It wasn't like me to feel like this, especially when he was asking for something so small. Normally, any excuse to get out of studying, I would grab. And so, I called back to him with an affirmative response before padding down the stairs. I hadn't even heard the doorbell ring and I wondered just how caught up in my thoughts I had been for the past hour.

A thundering bolt shot through the night sky just as my hand laid on the door and I dragged it open to see the delivery-man standing there, shivering in the cold. He shot me an awkward smile, one which I reciprocated. His curly hair was dripping from the rain, down his face and I almost wanted to ask him inside and wait – but thought better when it probably would have come across as a lot creepier than I wanted.

"Hi, how are you doing? This'll be twenty even," he said and placed the cardboard boxes of food in my arms. I glanced down at the immense portions Milo seemed to have ordered and turned to settle them on the table beside me. Feeling the heat of the deliverer's stare on me, I looked around to see if Milo was around but when a few seconds of silence passed, I coughed into my elbow and started to pat down my jean pockets before pulling out a small wad of money.

"Here's forty," I smiled, "Keep the change."

It looked as though he was squinting at me, but it was the splattering rain that was dropping into his eyes. His eyebrows rose in surprise and accepted the extra change with a grin.

"Thanks!"

He lifted his hand in a quick wave before he started to half-run, half-jog his way back down the winding pathway to our house. I kicked the door shut with the heel of my feet and sighed while grabbing the few boxes of steaming takeout. I stumbled over to the kitchen table and set them down; the smell making my stomach grumble. Oddly, as though it was timed, Milo bounded down the stairs with a jump in his step.

"It's here?" he cheered when his eyes landed on the takeaway, "Oh thank God, I was starving."

I stood still, frowning when he didn't mention anything. He skidded over and didn't hesitate in ripping off the covers of the food and digging in. I lifted a hand to scratch the back of my head before clearing my throat.

"Well, um. . . I'll just go back to my study then," I announced.

"Oh yeah. Sure. Have fun."

He waved me off with his hand but didn't avert his eyes from his phone. He was scrolling through something with his thumb while his other hand held a slice of pizza. He munched on it with a happy face and when a few more seconds passed and he didn't say anything, I started to make my way back to my own room. A hard line was pressed across my lips and my mind was reeling at a hundred miles an hour but I forced myself to push every negative thought away. I was stressed and clearly using anything as an excuse to get out of studying.

Nothing was going on here.

Right?

****