Vol. 1: Four

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+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +
VOL. 1: CHAPTER FOUR

     This morning is harsh

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     This morning is harsh. My mother, once again, bugs me about eating breakfast. But I know, that within the next few fours, I'll see Elijah again, and he'll realize where he knows me from. And I just don't want to have anything in my stomach available to throw up, when that happens.

     Rick won't stop texting me, complaining about the fact that he feels so nervous, he's sure he'll combust into a fit of either nervous giggles, or word vomit.

My father feeds Toro, eyes wandering over to me every few seconds, as I struggle to swallow my mothers meal whole. "I found your old bike misplaced, this morning. But haven't rode it in quite a while, right?"

My chewing slows, as I don't dare look up toward my father's knowing stare. "Y-Yeah, it's been a while. I had no idea it had been moved."

"Who did you go see?" He doesn't waste anymore time, delving right into the questioning, as I now know that my white lies are going right over his head. "Alaric? Terrance?"

I groan, "Abba, no, I didn't go see Terrance. I told you, that's over."

"Is it really, Gage? Because you never talk to me about these things, and then you become angry when I start to ask questions. My father would have never let this slide, you know? Back in Israel, he knew everything that went on in my life. But with technology these days, it's too difficult to keep tabs on you."

     My father shakes his head disappointedly, as he begins to make himself a rather large cup of coffee. I want to defend myself, but I know that it will through one ear, and out of the other. Usually, my mother will stick up for me in times like this, but she had an early shift at the hospital, leaving my father to be the one to take me to school.

     Dumping the rest of my mother's food in the trash, making sure to hide it with Toro's leftovers, so that she, too, doesn't give me an Israeli speech on how good, Jewish boys don't throw perfectly good food away.

     "I'll be in the car." He murmurs aloud, leaving me to roll my eyes, and follow closely behind him.

     Once I slide into the passenger seat of my father's SUV, he seems to be extra irritated after his own ranting, me wanting to so desperately explain what had happened both Terrance and I.

     He pulls out of garage, the machinery automatically closing behind him, as I laugh to myself. He always bashes technology, but uses it every single day. I watch him a little more, preparing myself for the extensive backlash that might come out of me explaining Terrance and I's history to him.

     "He has a sucky personality," my little bit of words has him frowning, eyes momentarily finding mine, before returning back over to the road.

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