1291 Words
" Hey Rob." My elder brother sits right in front of the television, his hand constantly rotating between the bag of Pringles and his mouth. It was a wonder he didn't have a defined jaw after all the exercise he put his mouth through. "Hmmmm",he groaned, not even sparing me a glance before he tuned his eyes back to the show he was watching. To the show he was always watching. Day after day, episode after episode. South Park. " Piss off", I muttered under my breath, passing by him to peek inside the kitchen. " What did you..?", he began, twisting around to glare at me before he scoffed and turned his attention back to his show, "never mind, brat." " I'm the brat?" He still couldn't even get his s**t together, and the i***t felt comfortable brat? The world really is going bonkers. "Mum!", I called pushing the kitchen door wide open, or least making the gesture. The door was long gone. Long, long, gone. Mum wasn't there. Next I checked the baking store. If mum wasn't in the kitchen, she'd either be in the store, checking out her supplies or something or the other. I'd never had an interest in baking, just the eating. The store was empty, save my mum's favorite utensils lined up on a shelf like prizes. I made a beeline for her room. Sure enough, I heard the light sound of music escaping from the room. Finally, I got rid of the panic that had gripped my heart and let a little smile rest on my lips. Mum was safe, she was home. " Mum", I called out, opening her door after our special knock. " Hey love." She motioned to her bed, mouthing ' sit down '. " You got my text right?", I sat cross-legged on her reading chair. Her bed was...her bed was a no go territory. Her bed carried memories I was not ready to paw through. Raw memories. So, I always chose some other place to seat whenever I entered her room. " Hmm. What'd Baron say he want again?" " His mom invited me over to dinner a week ago and...", I paused. " Mum! You know this already", I chuckled. " Do I now?", she wriggled her thick eyebrows at me. " How's the search going?", I ask, nodding to the laptop screen she was on. " I can't even begin to describe it", she sighed, pushing back her glasses. " Who'd have thought stolen genuine silk was this hard to find?" " Look over there", she pointed to her desk. Her gray tablet, some pens and in the dustbin, crumpled pieces of paper. She really had been at it since I left for school like she promised, going by the amount of crap she'd racked up. " You can go", she turned her goofy smile at me. " I'd have felt guilty if I had to cancel myself, even though that's what I'd have loved to do." " You wouldn't", I object, flashing her a smile, " you hate broken promises." " Scoot", she laughed, " unless you're an expert at hunting down stolen silk items", she joked, raising a brow at me. "Soon, soon", I backed out of her room, " I'll be there soon." " Keep up, or you'll be out of a job", I cheekily joked, running out of the room. The thud of a book against the door informed me that I was smart to do so. I just changed out of my school clothes, and wore a joggers and any random shirt lying about my room. Baron had said he'd come 'pick' me by six, even though we lived next to each other. We've lived next to each other since we both moved in the neighborhood together two years ago. I won't think about it . I won't think about it. "f**k it." I get off my bed, and toss my laptop to the bed, abandoning the story I was writing. " Nothing's coming to mind anyway", I murmur, tying my hair up and yanking open my wardrobe doors. The first sweatshirt I see is Baron's and he'd been hounding me to give it back to him. I wasn't ever going to do to that, so no, I wouldn't be wearing that over to his. The second my hand touches is mine, but definitely not meant for extremely cold weathers. I ended up not picking any. Baron had a lot at his place any way. " I'm off!", I yell as I yank mum's door open. "Already?", she checked her phone, " didn't you say it's by six?" " Yeah, but I can't get any writing done. My head is just a muddle of - goddamn it, this isn't right - and you know when that happens, it most likely isn't right." " Hmm, true, bye." She turned back to her laptop, picking up her phone and talking to someone over it. Rob, still was in his spot. The only variation was the snack he was devouring. Plantain chips this time. " I..", I softly began, then paused. " Nah", I conclude, walking into the kitchen to take the cookie jar and an empty storage plate. It was a tradition, this thing. Whenever they came over to ours, my mum and Baron's exchanged recipes and took food back to their houses. Sometimes I worried about our diets. " I'm out here, Baron", I say into the phone, the moment I step into ' The Zone'. " Out where?" " And why are you telling me that?", his muffled voice resounded in my ear. " Where else would I be and be telling you about it?" " Get your ass over and open the damn door!", I manage to push past my chattering teeth, " I'm freezing out here, I didn't grab a sweater before I left." "I'll be right down." The ugly green plant Ayla, Baron's mum had slapped on the porch did the exact opposite of what she had intended. "' I want a hip, fun piece please'", she'd told the flower shop attendant the day she dragged me to buy it. " Fun piece my foot", I chortle, staring the plant right in the face. I heard the slap of feet across wooden floor boards right before the door was pulled open and I was pulled inside by a strong arm. " Why didn't you wait for me?", Baron asked, placing his palms on my cheeks. " Our houses are right next to each other", I deadpan, moving out of his hold. " Tell Ayla to get rid of that stupid plant", I chuckle, placing the plates on the kitchen counter. " I've told her several times, but she doesn't listen. Says it's not about the plant, it's about the gesture." " I'm sure the only gesture the attendant would have made would be a socially unacceptable one", I whisper the last words close by his ear, " with the way Ayla priced the flowers, I'd thought she'd have gotten a worse deal." " Erh, yeah", he rubbed the back of his neck," go up to my room." " There's a sweatshirt on the bed." " I think I love you", I smile, slapping his abdomen as I sidestep him to the stairway leading to his room. " Where's Ayla?", I ask, after I'd gotten midway on the staircase. " She's...", he began, his eyes tracking something on the floor. "She's not home." " She's not home?", I ask, suddenly gulping down the emotion that rose in my chest. " Yeah", he flickered his eyes to my form standing on the staircase, " She's not home", he repeated.
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