Today Never Happened

Chapter Three

Kysen

"You're kidding me," I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my bloodshot eyes.

Slumped over on my couch was Casey, at nearly six in the morning, with drool leaking from his lips and his bandana tied around his eyes. Unlike I had thought, I managed to get just enough hours of sleep to get me through the day; although I hadn't planned on waking up to the sight of Jones still seated on my furniture.

Grabbing his hockey stick from the floor beside the couch, I mentally cursed at boy for being the biggest pain in my rear end. I didn't wait for him to stir in his sleep to give him a good whack on the cheek with the stick. Being the paranoid guy he was, he jumped in his place and let out a low groan of discomfort.

I rolled my eyes and gave the other side of his face a hit, to which he slowly sat up and rubbed his now irritated skin. "Get your ass up, dude. I thought you went home."

"I didn't feel like walking four blocks so I crashed here," he said. Jones pulled the bandana off of his head and let out a yawn, rubbing his cheek.

"Whatever."

I tossed the hockey stick on top of him before turning around. My body begged for just a few more hours of sleep but my stomach growled to be fed, so I waltzed over to my refrigerator and pulled it open.

My eyes locked on to the leftover pancakes I had made less than three days ago and I grabbed them. Deciding Jones would most likely want to devour some food as well, I plopped three extra pancakes on top of my plate and threw it into the microwave.

"What time is it?" He asked. He nearly tripped over the carpet that sat beneath the couch and I had to stifle a laugh.

"You have a phone, dumbass," I retorted. "But it's six o'clock. What time did you plan on having me meet your friends?"

Casey walked over to the refrigerator and picked a cool water bottle from it. "Oh, so you want to meet the ones that will scare you off now?"

Rolling my eyes, I turned around and grabbed our breakfast out of the small appliance that beeped. He scoffed and chugged half of the beverage.

"They won't scare me, Jones. I promise you that," I snapped. "Now: when?"

After he watched me set three of the five pancakes on a separate plate, he shrugged and grabbed the syrup from one of the cabinets.

"I have to let them know who you are and that you are coming with me before we go. I'm guessing, though, that they'll want to meet us at Murakami's before he closes at six."

"What are their names?" I asked, shoveling a few pieces of syrup-soaked pancake. Jones picked at some of his pieces before copying my actions.

"Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael."

It suddenly felt like the food I had just downed got caught in my throat and I choked, bringing my fist over my lips. My mind immediately focused on the images of the four vigilantes I never thought to have met. Knowing I was right about Casey knowing the other vigilantes because of who he was made me curse.

"Are you okay? What the hell was that?" He asked, furrowing his brow at my concerning actions.

I shook my head and grabbed my glass of water, watching as his face of concern slowly changed to the expression of pure surprise. The looks he gave me made me freeze.

"What?" I asked after setting my glass down.

"You know them already, don't you?" My heart sunk down to my stomach and I swallowed hard, my throat burning. He wasn't supposed to catch on as fast as he had just did, but I also was not supposed to know he was friends with the mutant turtles. "How did you meet them? Did they save you or did you just see them in a random alley?"