Louder Than Words

Chapter 5

Alright. I admit, my morning that day could have gone worse. Maybe, just maybe, I was pulling out my hair for reasons beyond my range of control. Maybe. Although, I'm pretty sure being kidnapped from school and adopted into a new family of child mutants was a pretty decent reason to stress. Then again, considering I am also an alleged child mutant, do I really have the right to complain? Whatever. Besides the point.

I had spent breakfast sitting around a wide wooden table with its fair share of sharpie doodles, and sharing a bowl of cereal with Selena and Jonathan. They had both readily filled any lingering awkward silence with, what I assumed to be casual, conversation. (Ex. "Hey, Johnny, pass me the salt." "Why?" "I'm gonna put whatever's left in the milk for Luca." "Oh. Okay.")

Once breakfast had ended, Selena had shamelessly left me and Jonathan to clean up and suffer through an old, rugged game of Parcheesi. Thus, between passionate arguments and accusations of misconduct, I found that the first hour had somehow passed with a surprising ease. Although, I think Johnathan may have gotten bored with my company, seeing as though it only took a measly half an hour before he packed his belongings and moved on to better, more interesting things, leaving me to awkwardly fumble with one lonely die and count little black dots until my heart finally couldn't take anymore.

This emotional agony was only heightened by the fact that I had lost my phone just a week before my kidnapping. Of course, lost being a subjective word. Michael was quick to destroy it the moment he caught sight of the thing, mentioning something about hackers or being tracked down. I found the entire ordeal to be quite dramatic, but I found it simpler to just follow along. I conceded without much of a fight on the condition that I added a few emergency contacts on Michael's old burner phone for, well, emergencies. Not that I necessarily expected to use them, but it sounded smart at the time.

Just as I was about to snap in what certainly would have been a blatant demonstration of mania, Jaz had reluctantly trudged through the kitchen, still clad with a raging case of bedhead despite being up for however long. I never expected to feel so much relief towards a near stranger.

She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, with far more vigor than I had yet to see someone handling water have, and padded over to the couch for what I only assumed to be her daily, and most definitely nightly, routine of reading until she dropped from crippling exhaustion. She didn't bother with even a pity glance in my direction before becoming one with the couch and picking up wherever she left off in her reading.

Eventually, seeing no other future opportunity to form a sort of bond with the teen, I courageously braved the walk from the table to her side, and carefully positioned myself on the dark green couch about a foot away. I mustered as much strength as I could, and eventually asked, "Can I see what you're reading?"

In all honesty, I almost regretted the question right after I had asked it, suddenly recalling my fervent disdain for books. It's just... seeing the rare, small smile that had immediately resulted somehow made the emotional torment worth it. So, I suffered through the long, excited synopsis about dystopian societies and unsurpassable romance, and forced myself to be engaged despite how badly my mind desired to drift. This conversation lasted until finally, finally, I was saved by the sound of the front door opening.

I turned just in time to see Michael, Maya, and Blaise step inside adorning plastic grocery bags within their grips.

"Hey, Jaz," Michael said, sounding surprised, and she had finally halted her enthusiastic summarizing. My desperate need for release must have been obvious, because it only took one glance at my face for Michael to say, "Why don't you go round up everyone else? Tell them I brought food. Don't mention anything about putting away groceries, or they'll never get off their lazy asses."