Learn How to Love (Boy x Boy)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

The pot bubbled angrily as I stirred the cheesy mixture back and forth with a spoon. Books were scattered across the table, all of grandma's spellbooks. I had my laptop opn on the kitchen table with a bunch of tabs and websites open. Luke was sitting the chair upside down, his legs over the back and his head dangling beneath the table as he held a book in front of his face, flipping through the pages. The smell of herbs and spices filled the room. It was pretty peaceful, and for a brief moment I picture us as a married couple in one of those old sitcoms. Would I be the housewife or the hard-working husband? 

"Find anything?" I asked, pouring the alfredo sauce over the meat ravioli. I went grocery shopping with Luke the day before, and he insisted we get some frozen pasta to make for supper. I got as much as possible, since meat, cheese, and pasta were really the only things he could stomach. I wasn't sure if he was just a picky eater or if it was the curse. I mean, I'd seen him at lunch throwing bits and pieces off of his food. He couldn't stand the taste of anything burnt, so I made sure to keep an eye on everything I made. I was also making fruit kebabs. You boiled sugar into a thick glaze, and then rolled kebabs with pieces of fruit in the sugar. Once it hardened, it was like a crunchy coat over the crisp fruit. It was one of my favorite snacks.

Luke sighed, which I took as a no. 

I had two plates, one filled halfway and the other piled with the pasta and cheese. I could see the hungry look on Luke's face as I brought the plate over to the table. He righted himself, sliding the book over the table. I tried to move some of the mess out of the way so that we didn't spill any sauce or crap over the ancient books. Grandma's ghost would have my head for it.

"Fork," I barked, handing him the silverware. "Use it."

"Cats don't use silverware," he scoffed.

"If you spill a drop on this table I'm shoving the fork up your ass. Now eat." 

Luke stabbed a few pieces of pasta and shoved them into his mouth. His eyes widened, and he did the weird panting thing you did whenever there was hot food in your mouth. I shook my food in disbelief and handed him a glass of cold milk. He chugged it quickly, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve when he stopped whining. He continued chowing down the pasta as I refilled his glass. 

I sat down at a chair a couple inches away from him and looked at the cover of the devil book. The devil was supposed to be Asmodeus, the devil of lust. I doubted it had anything to do with Luke's curse. If it did, than I didn't want to know. I set the book off to the side. "I don't know how to sift through these," I said, frustrated. "Your curse could be a cause of anything. I mean, I know why I would've cursed you, but whoever did must have another reason for it- right?"

"This is so weird," mumbled Luke around a mouthful of pasta. He wasn't even looking at me.

"What is?"

Luke glanced at me, like he'd forgotten I was there. "Oh, I mean having three meals a day. Like, you make waffles for breakfast and you make pasta for supper. My dad never cooks, so he either throws money at me and tells me to go a fast food place or he just kind of lets me sit there. We used to have a bunch of cans, but I ate them all a while ago."

I frowned. "So... so you don't eat?"

"I've got lunch at school. When they give us bags of chips and packaged food I put it in my bag for later. I've got a pretty big stash of junk now, but it isn't as nice as the food you make." He set the fork down and wiped his mouth on a napkin, a habit I've been enforcing to protect the sleeves of my sweatshirts he kept insisting on wearing. 

I poked at my ravioli. "That's not really healthy."

"Tell me about it. But it's fine. My dad usually has big meals at work. They love him a lot there, so they always throw him parties and buffets and celebrations. Then he's so full he doesn't want to eat at home."

I looked at Luke, astonished. This whole time I thought when he was snarfing down the plates of food that it was because he somehow had the personality of a feline, but it was actually because he was getting starved at home. Why... Why did that make me feel so sad? All I knew about Luke's dad was that he was some huge business man that had a lot of money and a lot of power. I rarely saw him around town unless you spotted him coming out of a strip club or a school meeting. He didn't talk to anyone unless he had to. He sort of treated the town like it was a smudge of dirt on his stainless white shirt. 

Luke glanced at the worried expression on my face. "Don't look so concerned. I get enough food now. It's not a big deal. And no, talking wouldn't help." He looked at his plate. "Haven't you noticed that he hasn't once called me? Or tried to see where I was? I've been gone for a week now and he doesn't even care. He probably forgot he has a son by now."

"Luke, I'm so sorry-" I began. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course I didn't know- Luke hadn't told anybody before. The Douche Squad didn't know, nobody did. Which meant he was completely alone in his struggles. Even though my parents weren't great, at least they acknowledged I existed. Plus, they wouldn't get through everyday without me there to make them coffee in the morning and to remind them when and where there work was. I was needed here- Luke probably hadn't even thought twice about moving into my treehouse to stay for a little while. 

Luke scarfed down a few more pieces of ravioli, his tail trembling. "I don't know why everyone says that. It's not your fault, there's nothing you could've done to change how he feels about me so I don't get why you feel like you have to apologize." Luke smiled. "You're doing what you can right now. Even if you'd rather eat waffles with Sadie, you make me food and give me clothes. I suppose that's enough to keep me sustained until we figure out what to do about the cat ears and tail thing."

I nodded. "Yeah... it just doesn't make any sense. What curse could turn a person into an anima-" Holy shit. 

"Kylar?"

"I just remembered a spell I read in one of the books. I left it in the treehouse, hold up, I'm going to go grab it. Keep eating, I'll be back in a second!"