Coping Skills

Chapter 5

-the next morning-
I woke up next to Aodhan, my cheek pressed against my chin roughly and my head on his shoulder. I blinked sleepily, rubbing my eyes and finally acknowledged the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
"Aodhan," I mumbled, shaking him. "Wake up,"
He bolted up right immediately and looked at me with wide eyes. After taking in his surroundings and seeming to remember the previous day, he relaxed. "You scared me," he muttered, shaking his head.
I shrugged, not trying to show how much his reaction had frightened me. Why did he sit up like that? The look on his face was absolutely terrified, like he was afraid someone might hurt him. Attempting to clear my head, I changed the subject. "Are you hungry?"
He nodded, hopping up. I followed him into my kitchen, the smell of buttermilk pancakes and southwest scrambled eggs leading the way.
My mom was standing at the counter flipping the pancakes when we walked in. The black refrigerator sat in the corner, the brown counters lining just below the matching cabinets, the red tile, and the fluorescent lights illuminating everything were exactly how they always were, though something felt...different. Off. I suspected bitterly that it had something to do with the dream Aodhan must have had. I tightened my lips into a smile to keep from being nosey-mama says it's not ladylike.
"Good morning kiddos! I really hope you're hungry." She smiled at us warmingly, setting the plates on the table. We took our seats after getting cups of milk and dug in. The pancakes were soft and fluffy, and the eggs were amazing as ever. I guess I always took for granted that my mom was an amazing cook, but Aodhan was closing his eyes and chewing slow enough he looked like he'd never tasted good food in his life. A couple of pleasant sighs escaped his lips.
My dad strolled into the kitchen at the precise moment, smiling at the company and planting a kiss on my moms cheek. Then he turned to Aodhan. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I apologize for that, I had to work late. I'm Zena's father, Lucrin. It's nice to meet you."
"And you," he responded formally. Then almost cracked a smile. "You all have such strange names. It's comforting." He paused, glancing at the time, then jumped up, suddenly in a hurry. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to leave now. I want to have my chores done before my father gets home." He walked to the door, and my dad and I followed. "Okay," he said, "we'll give you a ride home."
He seemed startled by the offer but, after a moment of reluctance, agreed. I think he realized he'd be home sooner if he accepted.
We drove to his home with the music playing softly. I recognized Taylor Swifts I Knew You Were Trouble and hummed along, but Aodhan just stared out the window, like the song made him uncomfortable.
The second we arrived he thanked us for having him over, jumped out of the car, and ran up to the steps, slamming the door behind him. "Where's the fire," my dad muttered, watching him. "Is he abused or something?"
I looked at him strangely. "What does abuse mean?"
He snorted then, despite the topic. "You use words like accumulate but don't know what abuse is." He sighed then, staring at the house. "It's when a parent or guardian hurts their child physically or mentally on a regular basis."
I stared at the run down building then, with the pealing paint and the caved in roof, thinking about his fathers uncaring voice and everything Aodhan had said, and suddenly, all of the pieces fell into place with a burst of recognition.