The noise of clattering of utensils could be heard from the kitchen. Groaning, I sat up on the couch and stretched my legs. After letting out a yawn, I slowly dragged myself to the kitchen where Dad was engaged in crushing the cheese.
"Cheese omelet?" he asked.
It was Sunday, I realized.
"Yep." I said, my voice rough partly due to sleep and partly due to the crying.
"Go and freshen up first." he ordered, pulling the pan out of the drawer.
"I don't want to." I said and yawned again but one glare from him was enough to make me bolt towards me room.
Finishing my morning routine, I changed into another oversized hoodie and sweatpants and knotted my hair on top of my head.
When I exited the bathroom, a figure accross my window caught my attention. It was the first time I was seeing him after the misunderstanding. He hadn't witnessed me yet. Leaned against the window of his room, he was lost in some deep thoughts.
He might have felt my presence because his eyes shot towards me and a thick layer of indifference coated his face. He backed away and pulled the curtains over the window, creating a barrier between us.
Not wanting to cry again, I pushed his thoughts to the back of my mind and descended the stairs, making my way to the dining room. On the table, juice, toasts, butter, cheese omelettes and coffee was already waiting for me.
"Fancy!" I commented and sat down in front of Dad.
His gaze was focused on me, his expressions strained due to many questions that must be occupying his mind but I kept my face straight.
"Mmm." I moaned as the cheese burst in my mouth. "It's great."
"Thanks." he said.
Despite the chaos in my mind, I decided to block my mind from my body for now and enjoyed the breakfast that my father cooked so lovingly.
"What?" I finally asked when Dad kept assessing my face for answers.
"Are we going to talk about last night?" He asked, refilling my glass with juice.
"There is nothing to talk Dad. I'm fine." I said, plastering a fake smile on my face.
"Ali!" he made his I-know-it-all face.
"Dad! Please. Trust me. I'll be fine." I replied.
Sighing, he ended our conversation by saying, "Fine. I'm letting it go for now. But if he-who-must-not-be-named make you cry once more, I'm gonna serve his head on a platter to you."
I smiled before muttering "Sure" and indulged myself in devouring the heavenly breakfast.
...
It was almost 6 in the evening when I finally left my bed and decided to do something about my pathetic condition.
I had two options. I could either stay in my bed and wait for a miracle that would cause Adam to come to my house and listen to me or I could go to his home and talk to him.
I decided to do the latter one.
After running a comb through the tangled mess on top of my head, I made my way to his house.
My heart was beating hard and my palms were sweaty but that didn't stop me from knocking their door. Tiffany opened the door and welcomed me inside their house warmly, giving an idea that Adam hadn't told her about anything.
After having some initial chat with her, I excused myself and paced towards Adam's room that was on the second floor.
My insides clenched in fear as I brought my hand to the door and after much contemplation, finally knocked on it.
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Adam
Teen Fiction"You know, it won't physically hurt you to be nice for once." I crossed my arms in front of my chest and groaned. "I don't want to take a chance." the corner of his lips lifted a little as he finished his sentence. "Well, you don't hear me complai...
