One of the Guys

Chapter 35: Somebody's Watching Me

Cecelia's POV:
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I'm surprised to find my brother staring at me when I wake up from a nap Saturday. He's sitting on the end of the couch, just staring. I wipe my eyes to make sure I'm not seeing things, because the doctor gave me some pills that make me loopy. He's there though, still staring. I awkwardly wave and he finally breaks contact to look at his clasped hands.

"Ashton had to go home, something about his mom yelling at him about something. I just let you sleep," he tells me.

I look around to notice that there is in fact an absence of Ashton. He probably didn't clean his room or something. Grace is a clean freak and Ashton could care less if he sees the floor of his room. I sit up, careful not to get my leg wrapped up in the blanket. This cast is heavy and annoying, stupid giants. They need a good helping of karma.

"I was wondering if you might want to go get lunch?" He asks. I look at him like he's crazy, because let's be honest here, its starting to seem that way. The look quickly makes him explain. "I just think we need to talk and we haven't eaten yet. I mean, obviously you haven't eaten, you just woke."

"Okay, okay," I cut him off before he keeps rambling. "You'll just have to let me get ready."

He looks relieved and nods his head. I motion for him to hand me my crutches and start the weird walk/hop to my room. I hate crutches. I feel like I'm swinging, which I love, but not when I'm standing. I grab shorts that will go over the cast and a baseball tee. I get a bath as fast as I can, but its not really that fast since I have to have my leg hanging out of the tub.

I get dressed and towel dry my hair throwing it up in a simple ponytail. I make my way towards the stairs, already dreading not listening to Ashton's advice of staying on the upstairs couch to avoid this problem. After a weird five minutes of dragging my crutches and foot, I finally make it. Archer looks at me quizzically when I walk in the kitchen.

"Why didn't you call for me, I would've helped you."

"Its okay, I managed. Ready to go?" I ask.

He nods and I follow him out to his truck while staring longingly at mine. He looks back at me and laughs. "You'll be back to driving in no time," he promises.

"I know, but why couldn't they of broken my left leg?" I pout.

He shrugs and opens the door for me. He puts my crutches in the back while I get in. He gets in and starts the truck and I smile when its on a country station. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," he admits sheepishly. "I hadn't gotten that far. I was just hoping you'd say yes."

"There's a little restaurant that has the best pancakes and breakfast on the planet," I suggest.

"Breakfast for lunch, I like it."

He enters the address in his fancy GPS and we're off. Its silent, but its not entirely uncomfortable. He's a gentleman and helps me out of the truck and opens the door for me. The waiter seats us and we look over the menu. I order pancakes and he orders some platter with a million things. I don't get where boys put it.

"I know you don't like me, " he starts off.

I raise my eyebrow. "Oh really, why do you think that?"

"Because I'm distant and moody and you have this bad look on your face when you look at me," he informs me.

"Its not that I don't like you, I just don't really know you. Plus, that's offensive, its just my face," I scowl playfully.

"Sorry," he says. "I know you don't know me and I don't know you. That's my fault, but I want to change that."

"Well, so do I, but why were you like that in the first place?" I ask sadly.