game on | lucaya

t h r e e

colds and casseroles

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I can't believe I have a cold. Not that I'm complaining or anything since I'm missing six hours of torture back in John Quincy Adams High School - my heart is with you, Riles - but I absolutely hate colds. I don't even get how people can get cold in the middle of summer. Honestly, how does that even happen? And colds are the worst because you waste so much paper blowing your sniffly nose into the 1-ply tissue paper that your mother gives you to use, proceeding to break the thin piece of fabric holding your snot, resulting in a wonderful snot filled floor. Great.

Since I have nothing better to do, I go out to the living room to put on some Harry Potter. Yeah, so I like Harry Potter? Actually, I absolutely love it and I hope you don't have a problem with that.

As I'm halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the door bell rings and I look at the time. Ooh, it's already a half hour past school hours. It's probably Riles and the guys.

I open my door hopefully, only to see my mother holding a plastic bag of greasy food.

"Oh, it's only you." I sigh disappointedly.

She purses her lips and raises a questioning eyebrow before proceeding to ask me, "Who're you expecting, darling?"

"The usual gang,"

"Oh. Also, Maya sweetie, I brought you back your favorite tuna casserole to cheer you up and make you feel better about the cold!" She gives me a reassuring smile before heading to the door. "Bye, honey, wouldn't want to be late for work after lunch hour!"

As soon as she leaves, I unpause the movie and glance at my tuna casserole questioningly. Should I eat it? I mean, it is my favorite food and all, but I have a cold, don't I? You know what? I don't care. So, I unwrap the casserole in one swift motion, tossing the paper onto the marble floor (I'll pick that up later, okay, mom?) and realizing I don't have a plate. Dammit. Here I am, sniffly Maya Hart holding a greasy tuna casserole in one hand, my other hand holding the tv remote. Wow, I must look like a mess, huh?

I carefully place the remote onto the table in front of me and walk to the kitchen to grab a plate. But just as I'm walking back to the couch to watch the movie again, the doorbell rings and startles me, causing me to jump and drop my poor casserole on the floor. I grumble, cursing under my breath, before storming over to the door, swinging it open and glaring at the three faces stood outside eyeing me wrapped in my cosy only-for-colds blanket.

"You had better help me clean up the mess you've just cost me." I frown, looking at my poor casserole on the floor. Rest in pieces, my dear casserole.

Lucas just stands there, laughing away and snorting, "You're so stupid, no wonder they call you Clutterbucket."

"Haha. It must be because you're rubbing off me, Friar." I reply, rolling my eyes at him.

Lucas narrows his eyes at me and excuses himself to the toilet. Excuses so he wouldn't have to help me clean up.

"Wait, why do you have to bring your bag to the toilet?" I ask him, pointing at his school bag that he was clutching really tightly onto.

"Um, it's none of your business," he answers quickly before scurrying to the toilet.

Farkle and Riley help to clean up the squished casserole from the floor and Lucas comes back, a very satisfied look on his face. Wow, he must have taken a huge doodie to be that happy with himself. Barf. And the next hour consists of Farkle spoiling the entire movie as if we haven't watched it before, Lucas actually admitting that he hadn't watched it before, and Riley hiding behind the couch in fear of anybody being murdered. My friends are great, aren't they? That's a rhetorical question, don't answer it.