By Next Thursday

Chapter Twenty-two

The feeling of warmth against my cheeks was the first thing I remembered. My eyes fluttered open to meet early morning light streaming across my face and I breathed a contented sigh into the soft, white cotton pillows. With little effort, I rolled over onto my back and took in my surroundings.

I felt no surprise as I immediately recognized it as my bedroom. A dark blue bedspread enveloped my body and my walls were the same as always, various pictures and posters hanging in their same places. The curtains swayed slightly as a spring breeze came through, caressing my exposed skin.

I couldn’t remember a time I felt so comfortable.

In fact, I couldn’t remember anything at all.

Before I could dwell on that thought, the smell of pancakes drifted through my doorway. I pushed aside my blankets and padded down the stairs. The delicious smell grew stronger as I reached the kitchen, and when I opened the door I was met with a table of breakfast food and someone cooking with their back to me.

I slid into a stool and pulled a plate towards myself. With yet another sigh of content, I dug in. The taste of the pancakes surpassed their smell and I looked up to compliment the chef. To my surprise, they turned around before I spoke and smiled at me. That happy, lop-sided grin that I liked so much.

Jay Carmichael.

All of a sudden everything came flooding back into my mind. From being a ghost, to unravelling the sick mystery that was my life, and to finally being in Rory Johnson’s basement.

I choked on my pancake, Jay gently patted my back while I coughed. “W-what happened?” I spluttered.

Jay cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

I cleared my throat and began again. “What happened in the basement, after I blacked out, I mean. Did you come after me and Meredith?”

“You knew I would.”

“Well? What else happened? How’s Meredith?” I pressed for more.

Jay just smiled and turned back to the sizzling pan. “Let’s not talk about it right now, let’s just eat breakfast.”

My lips couldn’t help but twitch up into a smile as Jay placed his own plate next to mine. “Why did you make me breakfast?”

“Why not?” he fired back with a smirk.

I just laughed. “Still as irritating as always, I see.”

“But you know you wouldn’t have me any other way,” Jay just shrugged, his dark eyes twinkling.

I smiled into my food. I enjoyed this happy, stress-free version of Jay. It blew my mind that we had spent so many years hating each other when could have gotten along so well. In fact, this was my first real experience of Jay when he wasn’t despising my existence or worrying for my life.

“This is nice,” I spoke my thoughts.

“Mmm, yeah,” Jay mumbled into his pancakes, his near-black hair falling in front of his eyes.

To my own surprise, I reached out and pushed it back into its usual position. I snatched my hand back and coughed. “I, uh, think you need a haircut.”

Jay, unaffected by my unusual action, ran his hand through his unruly hair and grinned. “You’re probably right. It takes away from my manly charm,” he flexed his arms dramatically.

I tried to look away but my hormones didn’t seem to want to agree as I watched Jay smile and laugh like he didn’t have a care in the world. I never realized how attractive he was when he was happy. His usual moody self was one thing, but this was so much better.