The Writer | #4✓

Chapter 23

"Yeah, I invited him over," I told my aunt, and she hummed, moving the camera a bit as we continued to talk. I was video calling Caleb's mum. She was in the kitchen trying to get some food ready, while I was working on homework at my end. It was Wednesday afternoon, and she was the only one at home now. They'd gotten a cat, and I could hear it purring in the background, mixing with the sound of the utensils Mrs. Wilson was using.

"Okay, will he be staying in your room?" she asked, making me look up from my journal. She was cutting peppers now and didn't have her eyes on me.

"Yeah, he will be," I answered after thinking about it for a while. I was staying in the guest room anyway, and it wasn't like there was somewhere else he could stay. I watched my aunt nod before biting her bottom lip. The first signs of snow had come last week, and Maxwell and I had watched the sky from his room's window since his floor had a wonderful view. It was cold, but that didn't stop Maxwell from wearing ripped jeans. I smiled to myself, thinking about my goof of a boyfriend.

"How's Candice?" I asked, realizing that it was just her and her parents at home now. Caleb and Wyatt were both living close to their campuses, and Ava had gone off for an international students' program in France. Although she was usually on her phone or tablet, I knew she didn't like being alone.

"She's taking it well. She misses you all, but she won't admit it," her mum laughed, moving the chopped peppers to a bowl before placing some onions on the wooden chopping board. I laughed too, thinking about Candice and her energetic sharp-tongued self. I looked on as Mrs. Wilson walked out of the camera's view. It seemed like the camera was on a small shelf, or heck, it was probably on top of the microwave because I could see most of the kitchen. I saw the brown cat by the door, but it meowed before walking out of view.

"That's a nice cat," I said, and my aunt laughed off camera. It echoed through the kitchen, and I let my gaze move from the brown tiles to the cream curtains.

"He's Candice's," she said, and I let out a small 'oh.'

"Have you heard from Wyatt?" I heard her ask as she came into view again, this time holding a bowl and whisking the ingredients inside.

I shook my head. "No, I haven't heard from him in a while."

"You should call him sometime," she said, and I could only nod. Wyatt had become friendlier and more outgoing but talking to him still felt odd, and like something wasn't right in some way. I could have sworn he hated me just a year or two ago, or maybe I had been imagining things — I never really could tell with Wyatt.

"Okay, I will," I said, thinking about how Wyatt slightly intimidated me. I didn't even have his number, but I could ask Caleb for it. I talked with Mrs. Wilson for some more time before we ended the call on a good note, and I went ahead to concentrate on my assignment. Oliver had headed to the main court for his volleyball game, and Maxwell was still in his music theory class, so I was the only one in the room. When I got a bit tired I went ahead to open the document of Maxwell's stories. He had sent it to me a few days earlier and reading them in my free time had sort of become a habit of me. His writing had a nice simple flow to it like he had measured the sentence sizes. And of course, I loved reading the little scenes of me and Maxwell together. It made me smile.

Finals were a month away, but Maxwell was currently writing his second set of midterms. I didn't have two sets of midterms, just one set that I had already finished, so I didn't spend as much time as I used to with Maxwell this week. Sometimes we talked through video call at night as he studied, and I worked on my papers, but I haven't seen him physically for a while — it was just a few days, I'm being overdramatic. I bit my bottom lip, sighing. I wanted to kiss him, pity.