Roommates with a Player

Chapter Three: Breakfast at Ricky's

            Getting to sleep was harder than I thought it would be. I tossed and turned the whole night, in-between crying jags and hysterical blubbering. It was a lot to lose your parents at the same time. But I dealt with it on my own and cried by myself. Nobody needed to share my pain.

            The sun flickered through the windows around nine in the morning. I still felt tired but I couldn’t seem to get back to sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I reached up and gave myself a small pinch on the arm to see if I was still dreaming. Sadly, I wasn’t. There was no getting out of this.

            “I’m so screwed, aren’t I?” I asked nobody.

            “Screwed? How so?” Ricky’s voice sounded from my desk. I bolted upright, wide-eyed. A huge mass of curly brown hair came tumbling down around me and spilled across my face and shoulders. This is what I got for not brushing it out the night before. Why oh why did I have to look like this now?!

            He gave a small chuckle as he looked me over. “Is this what you look like every morning?”

            My cheeks burned. “Why are you in here?”

            “Just coming to check on you after yesterday’s fiasco. You’re not going to faint if I keep talking, are you?” Ricky smirked.

            I ignored his jab. “I have to get dressed. Will you please leave?”

            “I can stay in here while you do that. It’s not a problem for me.” He slyly grinned.

            I rolled my eyes. “Get out.”

            “Well, well. Whatever you say, sister. Breakfast is ready downstairs.” Ricky said and left.

            “What a douche.” I muttered and got up from bed.

            I pulled everything out of my suitcase and started putting it away in the drawers. I didn’t have much and I knew that a shopping spree would be approaching quickly. I would have to figure a way out of that with Michelle. Maybe I could convince her to let me online shop.

            I threw on a Mumford & Sons t-shirt and some jeans and grabbed my brush, ready to tame the hair-beast. I poked my head out in the hallway, searching for the bathroom. I didn’t have one connected to my room.

            About three feet away was the door to Ricky’s room. I could tell it was his room because of all the band posters and profanities written on the door. We were the farthest to the right. To the left was a long hallway that seemed to stretch for miles. Numerous doors were placed throughout. Any one of those could have been a bathroom. I would just have to ask Michelle or Henry which bathroom I would be using.

            I shrugged and started my way down the hallway, looking for the stairs leading to downstairs. It was like a giant maze in this house. I wasn’t going to be able to find my way around for a long time.

            After going down many dead-ends, I finally stumbled into the kitchen. And I have to admit; it was the biggest kitchen I’d ever seen. It could have been a cafeteria! Two jumbo refrigerators, multi-purpose stove and oven, icemaker, password-protected liquor cabinet, toaster oven, two sinks, dozens of cabinets, an island, and a large cabinet stocked full of snacks, candy, and all the other necessities of a kitchen. I was in food-heaven! A plump, old lady dressed in a dress and apron stood in the middle, cleaning dishes. She must’ve been Luna.

            “Good morning, Emma! I see Ricky was able to wake you up.” Henry greeted me. He and the rest of the family sat around an elegantly decorated dining table. Plates filled with bacon, eggs, toast, bagels, sausage, and muffins littered the table. Two glass pitchers were filled with orange juice. Jesus Christ, these people ate a lot.