Trevor went into the house and switched on the light beside the door, beckoning me in. I slowly walked inside, my footsteps echoing off the walls, all the way through the house. Every time I came in here I was in awe of the size of it. I don't know why, It's not as if Trevor's actually moved since I got here. But there's just something about the house that makes me want to just praise it.
"Want some food?" Trevor asked, locking the door. "I can make food." He sounded as if he was reassuring himself more than me.
I smiled slowly. "Sure. Food would be good."
Looking at the large grandfather clock at the side of the entrance I saw it was 11:25. PM. Oh, God. I was never going to be able to wake up tomorrow.
He ran his hands through his hair and walked out, whistling some song. I didn't really know the tune, because Trevor likes music that hasn't been around for centuries. He seems to be a hard headed jock in school, but at home he's a classical softie.
"Do you like nachos?" He called from the kitchen.
I could feel his smirk. Nachos were my favourite snack ever. I mean, they're NACHOS! Nachos are amazing. "Trevor." I began my long and sarcastic rant. "We have known each other ever since I came here. We've been best friends ever since I came here. When we were at the cinema, I almost punched you in the face because you wouldn't let me have nachos. What do YOU think the answer is?" I asked, flopping onto his leather couch.
"No? Fine. I'll do Pop-tarts." I heard him chuckle.
"If you make Pop-tarts I will kill you!" I smiled, turning on the TV.
"Okay then. Nachos it is. I can make Nachos." He said loudly, so I could hear him.
Any friend of mine should know how to make nachos. Then again, I only have two friends. Those 'any friend of mine' jokes don't go down well with me.
You know, because I only have two friends.
I heard the ding! Of the timer, indicating the nachos to be done, and I quickly turned on something I knew Trevor loved. The Big Bang Theory.
He came in with a small bowl of Nachos for me and looked at the TV, smiling. "Fwank OO fwor the nachos twevor!" I put on a baby voice, holding out my hands. "I pwut on youw favwit sow!"
"Eh... Eat them and take off the stupid voice, and you, my friend, are very welcome!" He smiled, dishing out the nachos and turning the volume up. I ate a nacho and fell in love with Trevor's cooking again. I say again because when we were fourteen I came over and he made me my first ice cream float. This is basically a soda of your choice and ice cream. I vowed after that fateful day that I would always stick by Trevor. Because you never know when his cooking will come in handy. And, you know, he's one of my two friends.
"KAY!" I took another chip and squealed in delight.
"What is the big deal, Jo? They're just nachos! Now shush! Sheldon is about to talk! Man, I love him." Trevor smiled, noticed me staring at him oddly, and sighed. "Not like that!"
"The big deal," I sighed, ignoring his last comment about Sheldon. "Is that your nachos are not just any nachos. They are the best nachos in the world!" I put on a voice. "They're like a mouth in my party and everyone's invited." I smiled.
"What?" He laughed. "A mouth in my party?!"
I sat up, silent, until I figured out what I had just said. I laughed with him. "You know what I meant!" I smiled, whacking his shoulder.
He took my bowl of nachos, setting them down on the glass table in front, tackling me on the couch.
"No! Don't! Oh, God! I'm crap at this, Trev!" I laughed as he began to tickle me. "I- oh-Need-Stop it!-My-Oh God
" I reached for the bowl, tickling Trevor. He giggled and took a nacho from the bowl, feeding it to me.
"You're strange, Trevor." I sighed, rolling my eyes. But really I was savouring the flavour.
"Says the girl eating Nachos on her best friend." Trevor pointed out. I just dug my elbows into Trevor's chest.
"Stop it! That hurts! You and your bony elbows!" He lifted my elbows off him. "If I put them down, will you stop doing the annoying elbow thing?"
"NO!" I smiled.
"Fine!" He lifted my elbows up, and my face got pushed right up to his. "Ah!" He screamed, putting them down. I pushed myself away from him, taking another nacho.
"Scardey cat. You can't deal with closeness." I smirked.
"I don't even need a comeback, anyone would be able to make about seventy holes in that argument." He rolled his eyes, taking a nacho. "Mm. I have to admit, I make da*n good nachos."
"Don't you just microwave the chips?" I asked.
He coughed, muttering 'Madonna Tickets'.
"ABSOLUTLY AMAZING!" I gushed. "You should go on a cooking competition. Trevor Morgan: Cooking extraordinaire." I made him sound larger than life, I know. But hey, I mean, why not be un-subtle about it? I had to suck up to him for the Madonna concert.
We talked for a while about the game, about the party, about detention, about the concert. We talked for so long. But it felt comfortable. So finally I told him something I'd been keeping for a while.
"Trevor?" I asked.
"Yes?" He smiled at me.
"Remember when I first came here, and mom told everyone that she was single because she'd run away from my dad, who was drunk?"
"Yes." He nodded.
"He wasn't an alchoholic." I swallowed. Suddenly my throat was dry. Memories of dad were flooding back.
"What happened?" Trevor asked, sitting up, and putting his arm around me.
"H-He died of lung cancer." I remember the last words he'd said to me. He'd told me that I would always have him with me. And that I could never disappoint him. Because I was amazing, and beautiful.
A tear fell down my cheek, and Trevor wiped it away with his thumb. "Shhh.." He murmured, as I sobbed on his shoulder from the memory. Turning off the TV, he lifted me onto his lap, stroked my hair, and made me feel comfortable.
This is why he is my best friend.
"I-I'm sorry." I whispered when the tears were almost gone, and I was gasping for breath.
"Don't be silly, Jo. What have you got to be sorry for?" He asked, putting my chin up so I had to look at him.
"Crying. I hate crying. And I made a huge wet stain on your shirt." I pointed at it.
"You cry. You have feelings. You are a human. And seriously, the shirt can be washed." He smirked, running his index finger along my face, making me shiver.
"Yeah but-"
"No buts! I'm glad you told me that, Jo. It shows me you trust me a lot. And I know it was hard, but you did it." He smiled. "Now, Let's go to bed, Shall we?"
I nodded slightly, but he could tell.
A/N: Question-
What do y'all like most about Trevor?