Silver (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 3

A large, clanging bell suddenly woke up from my nap on the floor, a striped blanket wrapped around me. “DINNER!” Cecilia screeched.

I pouted. I didn’t want to get up from the area beside my bed! It’s all warm now! But, y’know, it’s not like I lay here for two hours trying to get it warm.

“Dinner, you ass.” Grayson knocked once on my door loudly, causing me to jump. “Hell, you’re so jumpy. It’s almost pathetic. And why are you sleeping on the floor?”

I allowed myself to glare at Grayson’s residing back before hopping up with the blanket still tight around me, jumping to the door.

“Whoah there!” A boy, about a year or so younger than me, caught me before I ended up tripping down the stairs for the second time in a row. “Careful!”

“Thanks!” I smiled, althought I didn’t know exactly what I was thanking him for. “I’m Blaire!”

“Justin.” He gave me a once-over, staring at my frost hair, which was sticking out at odd angles. “Are you always this hyperactive?”

“Always?” Grayson walked past us again, running his fingers through his magenta streak. “God. Try seeing him three times every week for the last year or so, and you’ll want to put duct tape over his fucking trap.”

“Dude, no need to be so harsh,” Justin frowned. “Give him a chance.”

Grayson scoffed and continued walking down the hall, leaving us to our own devices. “He’s like that,” Justin started, but I held up a hand to his face.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s happened too many times already.” I jumped down the stairs, trying to not-fall. “It’s just Grayson being Grayson.”

Justin sighed, entering the large, home-y kitchen with me. The kitchen and dining area was kind of like camp- where it was all dark wood, except that this one was a lot nicer, indoors, and didn’t have annoying, swatty flies hovering above your food.  “Alright. Whatever you say, Blaire.”

Cecilia spotted us two coming in and threw a dishtowel at Justin. “Go wipe down the table, honey, and let Blaire sit. I made him a welcome dinner!”

Justin smiled and wiped down a large oak table with ten big, heavy oak chairs surrounding it, then allowed a tall black girl to set down plates and forks.

“I’m Talia.” She stated, putting down some forks. “I have three rules for you: one: do not ever, ever use my hair straightner. Two: do not ever dig through my closet, or there will be hell to pay, boy. Three: do not wake me up before ten o’clock on weekends, or you be in hell, and you be dead, boy.”

Oh. That’s pleasant.

“Nice to meet you too!” I chirped, watching as she stared at me oddly.

“Is he always like this, boy?” She asked no one in particular. Justin threw his head back and laughed as he pulled out a chair for me, tucking in my blanket and caring for me as if I were a little child.

“God, Talia. I just met him, and he’s already managed to get on Grayson’s nerves.” Justin shot me a look. Why was everyone looking at me like I was the devil’s spawn today?

“Ooooh, boy, you better watch your back,” Talia snapped her fingers at me and sat down, curling up her long, jean-clad legs. “Grayson ain’t the nicest person out there.”

“And so we’ve seen,” Justin grumbled, pulling up the sleeves of his plaid shirt and putting a basket of bread in the middle of the table.

“Aw, shush,” Cecilia brought out some pot roast and set it down in front of me with her checkered oven mitts. “Blaire’s just nice. It’s a nice little change of atmosphere around here.”