10
ZEKE
"Bunnie?!" This time I yelled. She didn't answer the first time, and I was starving and ready to tuck into the breakfast in the bags I was carrying.
She came clumping slowly down the stairs, rubbing the heal of her palm on her chest. Her eyes were puffy.
It was tough, but I ignored the gnawing demand my stomach was making to ask, "Hey. What's up?"
"Nothing." She sniffed and wiped at her nose. I handed her a tissue from the box on the table.
“Are you hungry? We burned some serious calories last night." I winked at her.
It was as though someone had put a lid on her shine. This Bunnie and the one I hung out with last night were two completely different people.
"What's all this?" she asked in a flat voice and gestured toward the bags of deliciousness in my hands.
"I brought a
