Thin Ice

chapter seven

When Hunter drops me off at home after Moes, I'm only alone for fifteen minutes before Caleb pulls into my driveway. He took Tristan home, and I think (at least, I hope), he went home to shower and change before tonight. Hunter and Tyler each have a short answer essay due tonight for their English class, and Will doesn't have his license or a car, so they aren't going to come for a bit, but Caleb is here, which means we'll have plenty of fun while waiting for them.

I open the door for him before he can knock even though I'm in a towel and just about to shower. He steps inside with his backpack hung over his left shoulder and his keys in his hand. "Is Shelia home?" He asks. "I didn't see her car."

Shaking my head and closing the front door behind him, I tighten my hold on the towel and lead him into the kitchen. "No, she had a hair appointment and then some errands to run. She'll probably be home in an hour."

Caleb flashes a grin my way. "Excellent." And out of his bag he pulls a handle of vodka. "How about we get this party started?"

I can only imagine how my eyes light up when I see the alcohol. "You magnificent man!" I laugh, clumsily throwing one arm around him in a hug while trying not to lose my towel. "I fucking love you, bro."

He laughs, wrinkling his nose as he pats my shoulder delicately. "Ew, you smell. Go shower."

"Don't drink it all without me," I call, rushing out of the room and toward my bathroom. He laughs behind me, and I hear him set his bag down on the stool beside the one he pulls out.

"Be quick!"

And with everything I have to do, I am pretty quick. I have to shave, which takes up a few extra minutes, but other than that I'm out of the shower just under twenty minutes later. Piling my hair into my towel and twisting it until it remains up on its own, I make my way back into the kitchen in baggy shorts and a zip up hoodie. Caleb, who has the tv on and pizza rolls heating in the microwave, the greedy fucker, doesn't bat an eye at my wardrobe; at this point, he knows better than to think I'm wearing this out and instead am just wearing this until I get ready.

"Why are you cooking my food?" I demand, reaching past Caleb on the counter for the vodka. If he broke into it already, he didn't take much, because the bottle is still almost full. "Didn't we just eat?"

Caleb shrugs. "I was hungry and bored. Besides, who are you to say that. Aren't you always hungry?"

Scoffing, I shrug. "I mean, yes. Are some of those for me?" I ask, standing on my tip toes so I can peer into the small window. There's a lot on the plate. Dropping back down to flat footing, I turn back to Caleb as I unscrew the lid. When its loose, I try to flick it off, but it just spins two, three times before slowing, and I frown down at it. "Wow. That was a disappointment."

He laughs. "Give me that. I'll show you how to do it." Taking the bottle when I reluctantly hand it over, he unscrews the lid until it just rests on the top, then flicks it so it goes flying. He smiles smugly before taking a swig and passing it back. "I can only do that because I spent the whole time you were in the shower practicing."

I shake my head and laugh. "Of course you did." Now I take a sip, grimacing only partly at the taste, which I'm pretty used to and will be plenty used to by the end of the night. "Did you make enough pizza rolls for me, too?" I repeat, settling the vodka back down and leaning against the counter.

"Of course." His usual dramatic flare makes the words take on an offended tone. "How rude do you think I am to not make food for my host? Besides, I know you dumbass. You'd eat a whole thanksgiving meal right after lunch if you could."