"This is not healthy; you look all worn out." I felt his warm, comforting hand pat the top of my head, most likely in disapproval.
"Can I live with you for a little bit? At least, until I go to England?" I asked, hugging his abdomen to comfort myself.
"What about Phebes?" he asked, looking at me with the deep look of concern only I received from him.
"Uhm, she's pretty bold, and I'll see her at school and soccer, and I'll cling to her to avoid my teacher, and Maxie's at home," I said, trying not to whine.
"I'll tell my mom, but make sure you're at your house for a couple of hours, for your family."
I nodded my head in his chest as we stood in the darkness by his front door at two in the morning. I detached myself from my best friend; how pathetic, to this day, I still run to Johnny when I'm frightened, or just out right weak.
"I'm sorry, JoJo." I kicked off my Adidas sandals at the welcome mat of his house and walked up the stairs towards the bathroom, listening to the footsteps that followed.
"Damn, that light is too bright, Fifi!" I heard him scoff, probably covering his eyes.
"Whoa, I do look like crap," I smiled, confirming Johnny's statement. I had several bites on my neck and ugly, blotchy hickeys, there were probably a few 'round my body. I spun the faucet on and let the cold water run on my hands and splashed my face with the ice-cold water.
"Ready to go to bed?" he asked, sitting on the bathroom counter, watching me brush my teeth and clean up.
"Yeah; I'm not really tired, though," I answered, looking under the navy blue covers and grabbing the remote to watch some TV.
"Pheonix, you're exhausted; you're gonna pass out right now," he said, getting under the blankets as well.
"Shut up. No, I won't." I watched the glowing screen, but, all-too-quickly, I found my friend under the covers, radiating heat. He was a pillow who sucked away every last bit of my energy.
"Want a ride home?" I heard as I woke up from the blinding sun, with the phone next to my ear not thinking about the piercing that commonly stuck to it like a magnet.
"No, it's okay, Finny, Johnny's giving me one." My phone beeped as I hung up on my twin and crawled under the warm covers, hoping for sleep to come.
"We have to stop at your house, Pheonix." I heard him laugh as I hid from the world. I don't know what on Earth is so frickin' funny, though. Just to get up to answer the phone made my tum-tum hurt, and this dum-dum is chuckling and smiling like the frickin' Cheshire Cat. He's indirectly laughing at my pain, stupid tallywacker.
Hmm, where have I heard that before? Think, Pheonix, think!
We interrupt this message to bring to you:
Spider pig, spider pig,
Does whatever spider pig does.
Can he swing from a web?
No, he can't, he's a pig!
Watch out, it's spider pig!
BRITISH SLANG! I remember now; I was working on my British accent and slang for my cousin's visit. Well, we're technically going to play soccer, but, nevertheless, ACCENTS!
"Don't know what could possibly be going on inside that head of yours, but you have to get your scrawny ass up and—Adam!" JoJo yelled, but he was still under the covers...that hypocrite!
"I'll get up when you do. School's lame, anyway," I huffed, annoyed at this warm brick of human I called my friend.
"Not for school. If you are to live here, you need clothes, and we both know you hate shopping. There's also your school uniform and a phone charger, that should be it." Blah, blah, blah, I hate it when he's right. He can go stuff himself with marshmallows and choke in his spit. But I wouldn't want him dead, just suffering for my entertainment.
"Shut the front door, Johnny, and lock it," I grumbled as I hauled myself out of bed.
"Oh, you know you love me," he joked as I pulled him up with the non-existent strength I had in my arms.
"Put a shirt on when we sleep," I laughed as he came up to his feet.
"I'm sexy and y—" My hand gave his boob a high-five and I jumped up to kick his tummy, and he landed booty first back in bed.
"You are the ugliest Prince Charming I know, so shove your pride up your ass, and, Adam, it's ten in the morning already." I BET THAT TASTED SOUR! His own medicine forced right down his throat! I noticed his somewhat threatening face as he got up. "You couldn't hurt a bunny," I mocked, moving towards the restroom to enjoy my morning pee.
It's the one time in the day where one is so relaxed and drowsy from the nine hour dormant slumber. I'm like a cow when I piss; I could sleep standing up. That's how calming it is.
"Hurry up, Nixxi!" I heard shouting on the other side of the metal door. Mrs. Baker watches too many scary movies and has declared that two rooms needed a metal door, in case an alien, a serial killer, or an all around creeper got inside their house. See? Everybody's a little messed up!
Holy frickin' fraqk racks, I'm gonna stab Johnny with a rotten banana; his annoying hobo self started banging on the door.
"What, Johnny?!" Then, without speaking a dang word, he slung me over his shoulder.
"So, I'm a softie?" He sounded pissed off, as if someone had burned his favorite hat on fire right in from of him.
"Uh—yeah? It's like your muscles are for show." Black became the only color I could see for I was squeezing my eyeballs so fricking tightly, Dizzy time! From his shoulder, he slammed me on a couch.
"Open your eyes," Johnny ordered and, opening my eyes, I saw a very ticked off guy with a fist ready for action.
"We can think this through, right, Johnny-boy?" I tried using my hands, but they were restrained, most likely by Johnny.
"Are you scared shitless, Pheonix baby?" he asked with his lips near my ear.
"I dunno, Jo Jo." Like a deer in headlights, I watched his fist quickly close the distance, coming near my face.
"Am I the toughest guy you've ever met?" The images my eyes were capturing were being slowly captured as I peered over to my left to see a clenched fist and the breath I have been holding in, escaped from my mouth. "Say I am, or I'll give ya a black eye."
Such a bully. He knows how much I care about face. "You are the toughest guy I've ever met," I huffed in annoyance at my best friend.
"Jonathan, don't scare the boy. There's only one of him, if ya break him, you're screwed," Mr. Baker said to him, mixing something, probably his new creation.
"Alright, Pa," Jonathan said, walking into the kitchen to greet his dad. "Just gotta protect my male pride; he called me a softie," I overheard him say.
"Well, son, you have an array of hats and are overprotective; you love sweets, as well. You're not exactly hard core, son."
I giggled to myself and walked into the kitchen. "He's a softie, Mr. Baker." I watched his grin grow on his face.
"And in denial, too. Good morning, Pheonix. Staying for breakfast?" He shoved his new concoction into the oven.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mr. Baker!" I smiled, completely ignoring the fuming, shirtless bundle of fun next to me. "Can I stay here for three weeks?" I bluntly asked him, dialing up my cute face.
"Ask the Boss-Lady when she comes downstairs," he replied, pointing up, indicating she was getting dressed or waking up or whatever it is mom's do before they see other people. "Why three weeks, my man?"
We leaned against the counter top, and I have no idea where Johnny went after we hurt his manly pride.
"Problems at home. Well, my butler, specifically," I said, looking down at the hard wood flooring, analyzing the lines.
"Wanna tell me while the scones are cooking?"
I sheepishly nodded my head, not wanting to, but this family was a part of my blood, too.