Chapter 3: Literally Sandwiches

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Cassius spins on his heels and pushes open the door to his house. Almost instantly, a smell of wood floods through the air, but I can't crinkle my nose. So I edge closer to him and sniff his shoulder. (Which, as messed up as it seems, is a wise choice.)

"Aaaaaaand this is where I will spend the rest of my miserable teenhood." He whispers to me. "Baby." Oh, he's such a charmer.

I give the house a quick scan—it looks so bland compared to Calloway Manor. It is covered in yellow paint, and everything is made out of wood. Including the air-conditioner. There are messy drawings pasted all over the walls, which look like they've been splattered all over by a 3 year old. But no people. Absolutely nobody.

"There's nobody there." I point out the obvious as we step into the, again, incredibly bland house.

"So it's just you and me." he remarks, as if he's finishing my sentence, and I smile. That is good. Did he mean to keep every single one of his family members away, just for me?

No, wait. He told me mine were sheltering me, and he must've literally shooed his parents away. Did he hate them? I suddenly realize—I know so little about my own boyfriend. Shouldn't couples know each other to the core? Can I even call him my boyfriend now?

"Have a seat," he pats a chair and signals me to sit. I do, and he turns on the TV. It's relatively small, about half the size of TVs in Calloway Manor. But we're rich, and this is just...common, I suppose.

Then he brings out two sandwiches and plops them on the table. Mine is ham and eggs, my least favorite. So he didn't listen to my crazy ramblings on how wonderful eggs are. Why am I even delusional about him?

"Sandwiches? Why?" I ask, which is sort of intrusive. "O-out of curiosity."

"School lunch is shit." he replies, taking a bite out of his sandwich, which is tuna.

"I mean, that's true." I smirk, amused, even though I don't get him.

"Nope, nope, nope–" He shakes his head violently. "There was this time they served vegetables, and vegetables are naturally shitty, but you know what makes them even worse?"

"Uh no—"

He interrupts, "-They're rotten and stuff! Can you believe it, dude? Rotten, yellow. Fucking vegetables!"

"W-wow, excess cursing, my dude." I dude him back, and I realize that that's useless, because he's a jerk and we all know it. But he's a cute jerk.

"Right, right, right," he shrugs. "I envy you for being able to have less shitty meals."

My maid cooks lunch for me every day so that I can avoid school meals.

I look down and realize I haven't eaten my sandwich before, so I take a bite and blush. He's staring at me.

"Um, this tastes weird." I blurt out loud, noticing Cassius's smug grin.

"Of course it does," he winks. "Still better than sloppy school lunch."

I don't reply and keep eating.

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