Best Friend's Brother But It's My Brother's Best Friend

6: Would you retain the mind or body of a 30 year old until you die?

The body, because I want my old mind. Plus, good sex for a long time.

The next few days in the house are mostly the same, except the boys are in a frenzy of creating content. I've taken to sleeping in Clay's room, nuzzled against him. It's some of the best sleep I've gotten, but all three of the boys are locked in their respective rooms from about 10am until well past midnight. I wait up for him to sleep, but he's gone by the time I wake up. My grades are thankful, the house aside from the boy's rooms absolutely spotless. I'm thinking of what to do today, knowing there's about an inch of snow on the ground and more falling, so I have to stay here. I'm no stranger to snow, and I do not want to drive in it here, where nobody is equipped for it. I get some chores out of the way, emptying the cat box and kitchen trash into the big cans in the garage, loading dishes in the sink into the dishwasher and running it, hunting down Pi and Patches to trim their claws and shower them with affection.

I make lunch for the boys and deliver it to them like I've done all week. It's been an actual week of this crazy schedule. Clay promised last night that today they'd be done before dinner tonight, and even though I doubt that they'll hold to it, I wanna do something special. I made sure to get the ingredients I would need at the store when I went the day before yesterday, and I'm excited. I start in on dessert first because it takes longer than the actual dinner. I've made things with choux pastry a couple times, but cream puffs with whipped custard in them are my favorite to make. Once I get them in the oven I start on dinner. I'm making lo mein, mainly because I haven't in a while and I know they'll be over the moon about it, but also because I miss Olivia. I facetime with her as I make it and just chat about school things. It's nice. I finish the noodles and then my puffs are done in the oven, ready to cool off and then be filled. It's not a normal combination, but I have been craving takeout style chinese food and french pastry for the past few days.

Cooking busied me for a fair bit of time, and I make my rounds bringing the food to the boys once I have the puffs set up cooling. I bring George's in and set it next to him with a stern reminder that it's not good cold. Nick is endlessly appreciative of the plate piled high, catching my arm as I go to leave and giving me a genuine 'thank you'. Clay is kind of a dick about it. Scratch kind of, he's definitely a dick about it.

I bring him a plate, made up all nice, sure to dig out a few extra pieces of chicken for him because I know he likes it. I knock, and wait, but nothing. I give him a minute, knock again when its up, and then the door swings open with a "What?" barking out of Clay's mouth. I don't like that. Really don't like that. I shake it off, and offer up the plate to him.

"Dinner." He takes the plate and closes the door, where I hear the distinct click of the lock behind him. No thank you, no nothing, didn't even take the fork I brought down for him. Locks himself away. I understand that he's under a lot of stress right now. I get it. Does that give him the right to treat me like how a fifteen year old boy treats his mom? Not at all.

I'm still grumbling when I get back upstairs, a little violent with the cabinets as I get the stuff I need to fill the puffs.

"What's got you all worked up?" George scares the shit out of me and I jump, slamming another cabinet. He's just putting a dish in the sink. Nothing else.

"Clay's being a dick." George 'ahh's, coming over to see what I'm doing. "You guy's anywhere near done?"

"Just finished what I have to do. They've got like, twenty minutes left about." Oh. I must've interrupted something important if they're that close to being done. Still, I was being nice. He should have been nice back. I busy myself with making the filling and then getting it in the shells before covering them with a towel and letting them chill in the fridge. I need something to do, and my schoolwork is already done up until the end of the month. I don't feel like sitting, got the urge to go, do something, anything. At this point, I'd do the workouts I'm supposed to do to stay in shape for swimming. It's not a bad thought, and I head up to my room to pull on leggings and a sports bra so I can get a run in on the treadmill in the mudroom.