Maya
I walk towards the house that Lucas pointed to earlier. It looks like a house that belongs to someone on one of those rich people shows who only ever complain. The rain pounds down on my ready soaked shoulders as I walk up a long stone path to red painted double doors. Lucas jogs to get in front of me and unlocks the door, gesturing for me to go first. I walk in cautiously. It's amazing. I'm sure it's just an average house, but for someone who's lived in a rat infested apartment their whole life, it's amazing.
There's a small chandelier hanging from a fifteen foot tall ceiling just as you enter. The hallway seems to go on for miles and the walls are all a dark brown with red trim.
"Woah," I say. He laughs as he shakes off the umbrella.
"Glad you like it," he places the umbrella next to the door and walks me into the living room to the right of the foyer. There's a big flatscreen tv over a fireplace. A huge brown couch is pointed at it with a chair of the same whitish color on both ends of the four cushioned couch. The room itself is probably as big as my entire apartment.
"What do your parents do again?" I ask in awe. He laughs
"They're scientists, molecular physicians to be exact."
"They must be smart," I say staring at the tv the size of a baby horse.
"I guess so," he takes off his shoes and places them next to the fireplace. I look around and see a big grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It's exactly six. The living room goes directly into a huge blue kitchen that smells a lot like Lucas, kind of like oranges or mangos.
"You can take a shower if you want, I can put out your wet clothes by the fire to dry and you can wear something of mine until then," he says, starting up the fireplace with practiced ease. I try not to think too much about if it's weird to take a shower at a friends house. I decide it's technically not, but that might just be my hypothermic fingers talking. And I realize I'm dripping all over a dark, expensive looking rug, so logistically a shower makes sense.
"Sure," I say tightly. "Where's the shower?"
"Right up the stairs and it's the second door on the right," he says pointing to a set of stairs next to the dining room. Can this house get any bigger?!
"I'll leave some clothes for you outside the door. I'm going to go change," he says shivering. I nod. We head up the stairs and I go into the bathroom. Even his soap is fancy! It's shaped like shells!
I jump in the shower after taking probably too long to figure out the knobs. I try not to cringe when the hot water hits my freezing bare skin. Then I try not to sigh because damn that feels good.
The shower is pretty sparse in supplies, leading me to believe it's Lucas's. I feel no remorse about pouring a huge dollop of his probably fancy (because have you seen his hair?) shampoo straight onto my head. I rub it in vigorously before rinsing it out and repeating the process with his conditioner. I don't think I've ever experienced water pressure this heavenly. I can actually feel the water against my scalp, washing the suds away. I usually have to stand under a limp spray for five minutes to accomplish that feat.
That being said, the shower is over way faster than I want it to be. After using a manly smelling body wash I pout to myself when I turn the water off. When I step out, I realize with annoyance that I don't even have a brush. My hair is going to be atrocious.
I wrap a towel around me and open the door a crack to see a shirt and a pair of boxers on the floor. I pick them up and close the door. Boxers? I guess those are the closest thing to girls pajama shorts a guy like Lucas would have. They're plain looking to my great disappointment. No cowboys. I put the clothes on over my bra and underwear which are still a bit wet to my dismay, but no way am I walking around without them on.
I walk out the door and I'm already freezing again. I go downstairs and I smell potatoes. I walk into the living room and the fire is lit, a basketball game is on, and Lucas has made us mashed potatoes and corn. He sits on the couch eating and looking intently at the screen. He's changed, now wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. He's set out a tray in front of the couch with my food on it as well as a blanket for me.
"Hey!" He says smiling and patting the spot with the blanket. I move slowly, a little self-conscious about wearing his clothes. When I down next to him and wrap myself in the fuzzy, warm blanket, I forget everything else as my stomach rumbles faintly and I see the stack of food. "I knew you liked basketball," he says smiling. I give him a "whatever" kind of look even though I recognize that it's incredibly sweet of him.
I grab my plate and eat the best meal I've had in weeks like a pig. We scream at the tv every once in a while whenever something interesting happens. Over all, it's been the best night I've had in a while. And I got to spend it with Lucas. Which is whatever.
"So how're you feeling?" He asks turning his whole body back to me.
"Better, the shower definitely helped." I say, daring a smile.
"Good," he smiles back. His teeth are reeeeally white. "So, are you ready to talk about what's wrong?" I can feel my smile fade and his does in response. I take a deep breath playing with what's left of my food.
"My dad's back," I say. His eyebrows go up in surprise. It's kind of nice that he sucks ar hiding his emotions. Keeps me from guessing. I can tell by his face that he wants to know more but is too respectful to ask, so I robotically give the rundown. "He left when I was 10. He basically treated us like servants whenever he wasn't out drinking. He didn't like to work so he made us do it. I got a little job as a dog walker which helped my mom pay for the bills that he caused."
"Oh, Maya. I'm so sorry," he puts his hand on mine and my heart does a little skip thing that I can't explain. I pull my hand away quickly and give a scowl at him.
"Doesn't matter. He wouldn't even leave the apartment unless it was out to a club or a poker game. One night he had to pick me up from day care because my mom was working. He was drunk and we got in an accident. The next day he was gone."
Lucas's mouth hasn't closed the whole time I've been talking. "Did you get hurt in the crash?" He asks with a level of worry I wasn't expecting. I don't want him to pity me any more than he is right now, so I lie.
"No," I say. I've told this lie enough that it's almost believable even to me. He looks relieved, his shoulders slumping a little.
"Thank, God. What does he want?"
"I don't know, I haven't been to see him," I look at the tv and my team is winning by 6.
"That's totally understandable. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. I'm sure even when my parents get back they'll be okay with it," he gives me a little half smile and I can see in his eyes that he feels sorry for me. And I hate it. I've never liked being the damsel in distress. I like to be in control, I can't afford to have people feel bad for me, that makes me weak.
I turn my attention back to the tv and pull my feet up on the couch, leaning subtly away from his prying eyes. I'm still cold from the weather outside even though the fire is only a few feet away. I can see Lucas in the corner of my eye sigh and lean back on the couch. I feel kind of bad for asking him to let me stay here, and I'm also a bit worried that with my dad back I'll get another burst of head pain and have to explain that to Lucas, especially since I just lied about getting hurt in the crash.
What should I do? Should I stay here and risk it? Or should I tell him I'll go and stay at Riley's? Or should I just sneak out when he goes to sleep? I groan and lean my head back, forgetting that Lucas is right next to me. Riley isn't even home, she's at her aunts!
"Are you ok?" He asks scooting towards me.
"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine," I smile at him reassuringly. There are those words again, "I'm fine". I can't wait until I leave high school. I can move to some remote place, maybe Iowa, no one ever talks about Iowa. I'd start a new life without having to lie to everyone close to me and there would be no one feeling bad for me, I'd never give them a reason to. But that's not for another couple years, and right now I have to deal with my screwed up life.
"Hey, what time is it?" I ask looking out the window. I just see dark blue and the occasional rain drop.
He looks at the grandfather clock that I forgot about. I'm tired if you can't tell. "Around 9:30," wow I've been gone for a while. I feel like I should call my mom and tell her I'm alright, but I'm sure she's not worried, I've been gone for longer than this before.
"Um, I'm kind of tired, where should I sleep?" He gets up and holds out a hand. I throw my blanket off of me and push his hand away. He chuckles and heads up the stairs with me on his heels.
"I'll sleep in my parents room and you can sleep in mine," he says opening a plain wood door.
"Are you sure? I can just sleep on the couch. It's definitely big enough," I step into the room. It's too dark to see anything except for a large rain covered window on the opposite wall from the door.
"I wouldn't let you sleep on the couch when there's a perfectly good room available," he turns on a light switch revealing a dark blue colored room covered in posters of all kinds of sports; basketball, baseball, tennis, hockey, even a couple I've never heard of. What the hell is rugby? The room is at least three times the size of mine and his bed looks like a king size. I walk into the middle of the room and I see a cowboy hat sitting on a dresser.
"Oh Huckleberry," I say, clicking my tongue and suppressing laughter. I walk over and pick it up. "You're making this way too easy," I put on the hat that's too big for me, now laughing freely. I see Lucas smiling by the door, arms crossed.
"Looks like now you're the cowgirl," he says walking over and flicking the rim of the hat.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself Ranger," I say smiling at his scowl.
"I'll get you for that Hart," he says squinting his green eyes. I can't help but think how cute it is that he's trying to intimidate me. Me? I mean come on.
"Sure you will, buddy," I ruffle his hair, even though he's a good head taller than me, and turn around to put the hat back next to a little cow figurine. I snort and look back at Lucas. He's trying to smooth his hair down.
"Well I'm going to go before you find anything else to use against me," he says giving up on his still wild hair. "I'll just be a couple doors down to the left of you need me." I point my fingers at him like little guns and then pretend to put them in my pockets. He rolls his eyes trying not to smile but I can see the corners of his mouth raise.
He closes the door after one last "goodnight" and I look at the bed. The comforter is a dark blue and black checkered pattern and it looks like his sheets are white. He has a little purple hippo stuffed animal at the end of a black desk. That's when I realize I don't have my panda bear. I haven't slept a night without it since I was six. I'm sure I'll be fine without Spots the Panda, I am sixteen after all. I turn off the lights and I take the hippo. He'll have to do.
"I'm gonna call you Cornelius," I say to it half sarcastically. He doesn't respond.
I finally get into the bed after staring at it for a few minutes. It's a little weird but I decide I'm too tired to care.
It's an adjustment being in a bed that's over twice the size of mine. It's so much fluffier too, I feel like if I jumped on it I would fly straight into space. I lay down and pull the comforter up, foregoing to restricting sheet. I wrap my arms around the hippo and close my eyes. The pillow smells like Lucas. It's hard to explain the smell, something between old spice deodorant and oranges. Maybe a hint of that shower gel I just used. I feel myself relax, trying not to think about anything stressful, and I finally close my eyes.