Insatiable (UNDERGOING REWRITES)

Chapter 13 : Ezra Sato

« Ezra's pajama pants above »

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—it.

Shit shit shit.

I can't believe this is happening to me.

All of last night I couldn't stop thinking about Caleb Ryan. A guy, for one, but also someone that I never even knew existed until last night.

It didn't help that Julian was being an asshole. Ever since he dragged me out of the club last night—like I had been the one slamming back shots—he's been acting like someone stole his favorite toy and all he wanted was revenge.

And I swear to God if the neighbors don't stop bumping uglies at this early of an hour, I might just explode.

The morning was not going so great.

"Could you stop moping and clean your dishes?"

Julian stood at the sink, hand on his hip and a glare on his face. He looked like an upset mother with his apron wrapped around his body and a smear of flour on his cheek and in his hair. The kitchen was a mess of pots, pans, spilt flour and chocolate chips. Some frosting laying here and there. The smell of warm cookies wafted through the room.

I sat at the kitchen table trying to avoid getting in Julian's way, my paper plate of half eaten toast sitting in front of me. I eyed my food before looking back at Julian, making sure to give him a pointed look.

But Julian didn't waver. It looked like he almost gripped his hips tighter.

"What dishes?" I asked instead. At this point in Julian's little temper tantrum he seems to be having, it was best not to give him anything more to get angry and upset about. But in my defense, I had no idea what put Julian in this mood. In his baking-to-distract-from-the-rest-of-the-world mood. At first I was a little nervous when I found out Julian baked when he was upset, or stressed or sad or furious. Then I thought it was cute. Now it frustrated me. Because all Julian does is bake, he doesn't talk about why he is baking. He just does it. I don't say anything though. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms.

Julian squinted at me, as if doing so would make me do something. But then he straightened and look around him at the mess he had made since the sun rose. He might have been doing this all night for all I knew.

"Oh—" Julian let out a long noise, a sound between a sigh and a grunt mixed with a whimper. He suddenly looked distraught staring at the messy counters. As if the past few hours of baking nonstop had finally hit him in realization.

"Julian—"

"Sorry, I'll clean this up."

I stood up before Julian could immerse himself in another mindless task to forget whatever was running through his head. Moving to Julian, I spun him around to face me, hands squeezing lightly on his shoulders.

"No, let's go get some breakfast instead."

Julian looked over my shoulder at my plate still sitting on the table. "But you—"

"Could use some real food, and get out of the house for a bit." Julian gave me a doubtful look but I just smiled. "Didn't you say I was moping?"

"Yeah!" Julian exclaimed, remembering his earlier remark. "What's that about?"

I waved his question off again, instead moving to the front hallway and slipping my shoes on. I could still see Julian standing in the kitchen, a look of confusion and surprise on his face. He opened his mouth as if to as what I was doing, but seemed to think better of it when I waved him over.