Meet You At Home

I'll never be the Same

My dad wasn't even worried about leaving us home alone, he was busy packing his bags and focused on getting out of the house. Every few minutes he had to reassure my mom that it was okay that they were going away, and my brother was ripe to take advantage of my dad's trust.

"They'll be good." Dad said for the sixth time. "Right guys?" He adds shooting us a quick glance, while zipping up the cooler.

"What could go wrong?" I'm sure Jackson meant to be assuasive with that, but it only made my mom look even more off put.

"You're still grounded while we're gone, so no going out." My dad's looking sternly at us, desperate that we won't mess up and ruin his vacation.

"I'll be calling to check up on you." My mom warns.

"Alright, we love you too. Now get out of here you crazy kids." Jackson motions them to the door.

...

I enter the kitchen to see Jackson doing a little victory dance over my parents departure.

"Who are you inviting to this party?"

"Don't worry, Nolan's already been invited." He says, stuffing a pop tart into this mouth.

He had a way of creating a ball of annoyance in the center of my rib cage with this specific pompous smile that he had.

"Cool. That's all I wanted to know." Might as well be honest. "Well, and Parker." I add

"Right... maybe you should invite her."

"Why are you taking Iris to prom?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Parker told me."

"Parker knows?"

Crap.

"I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."

"Then why did you?"

"Jackson, what happened? You said you were going to take Parker, then 20 minutes later-"

"I said MAYBE. And I also told you not to get your hopes up."

He leaves the room before I can keep pestering him with questions.

"I made quiche." Nolan says from behind me; I wonder if he's heard my argument with Jackson.

"Yes, I love your quiche."

As if Nolan couldn't be anymore perfect, he also bakes and cooks, which is hotter than his spicy chili.

"Do you own any other pajamas?" He motions to my cupcake jammies, a tray of buttery mini quiches in hand. It's the second time he's seen me in them in a matter of days, the first time being the night he asked me to prom. The recollection of this is making me blush, I'm sure of it because I feel heat rise to my face every time my face turns red. I think he can see this, and maybe even remembers now why he's seen me in these pajamas twice this week, because now he's fighting a grin and and looking away from me.

"I've washed them, don't judge me." I finally respond, grabbing a mini quiche from the tray, and walking further into the kitchen.

"Oh my gosh, you could really be a chef." I say when I take a bite into the flaky crust, and creamy egg filling of the quiche.

"That's the dream." He responds.

...

Parker is at her locker, and I can feel her anger from the opposite end of the school hallway. I can turn around and walk away now, leaving her wrathful words for another day, but there's no point in that really. I'll have to face her when she comes to my house tonight for the party.