After probably about an hour, I decide to go back to my room, so I begin to wriggle out of Scott’s arms. His eyes fly open, and his hand lightly grabs mine.
“Where are you going?” He asks, only half of his voice appearing in the question.
I look at his slightly-panicked eyes and down at his grip on me. “Just back to my room. Sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t go,” he says, intertwining his fingers in mine.
With everything I’ve ever hoped for right in front of me, I still untangle myself from him. “Sorry, I don’t think cuddling all night would be good for us. I think there’s more to talk about when you aren’t so tired, okay?”
He nods, eyes falling shut again. I think that was too many words for him. “Okay.”
I fold the blankets from the other side of the bed over him since he’s laying on top of the comforter, then head back across the hallway, shut my door, and go fall face down on my bed, thinking of everything that just happened, and wondering if I did the right thing. I fall asleep to thoughts of Christian and how cute it is that Scott became involved in Christianity to honor him.
I must be maturing, or I’m starting to forget how much I hated him.
The next morning, I come down the stairs and find Scott sitting at the table eating Special K. He hears my footsteps and glances up, smiling.
“I downgraded to cereal this morning, I hope that’s okay.”
“No, I expect you to cook me breakfast every morning for the rest of my life,” I reply sarcastically, walking into the kitchen where he put all the cereal options.
“Would if I could,” he answers. “Except I let Lindsey drive me to school this morning, so I didn’t really have time to get anything started before you woke up.”
I search the cupboards for a bowl and pour myself some Apple Jacks. “Yeah, I was joking. While your baking is certainly magnificent, I can easily settle for cereal.”
He looks at me some way that I can’t quite interpret as I sit down. “You’re in a different mood.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve only said, like, two things,” I ask after swallowing a big mouthful of Apple Jacks.
He shrugs, chuckling a little, I think at my light sass.
I raise my eyebrows, taking another bite.
“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, changing the subject and effectively avoiding my question, then eating a spoonful.
I nod, chewing. “After I actually fell asleep, yeah. What about you?”
“Better than I have in a while, I’d say.” And he looks at me because we both know why that is.
Embarrassed, I look down and poke at my cereal with my spoon before scooping some up. “Good.”
He finishes up and brings his dish to the sink, setting it in, then picking up the boxes he put out for me and replacing them where they usually go. When he comes back, he leans back in his chair and goes on his phone until I finish my food. I follow his previous steps, putting everything in the sink and then come back to the table, standing at the end of it.
“What do you want to do today?” Scott asks, clicking his phone off and setting it facedown on the tabletop.
I shift my weight to my right foot. “I don’t know my options.”
“I have some different ideas for different days, I guess. What’s today, Wednesday? Okay, so…” He starts, but he suddenly stands and walks into the kitchen, sifting through one of the drawers and coming back with a notepad and pen. He sits down and writes the days left in the week from Wednesday to Sunday.