Complicated People, Complicated Love

Crumbs

Maya

I wake up and I don't know where I am. It's not a feeling that I like. The sun is shining in through a window on the same wall as my head but the room is dim, as if the sun is partly covered. I move, getting prepared to get up, but am pulled right back down with a sigh as I realize just how comfortable the bed I'm in is. I should be freaking out. I think I might be, just not enough to pull me from this fluffy bed with its fluffy pillows and fluffy comforter that makes me feel hugged. But then I remember, and that jolts me up into a sitting position, all previous luxury forgotten.

Lucas. I spent the night at Lucas's. I let myself fall back onto the fluffy pillow and let out a half breath, half groan. I pull Spots up to my chest and hug him. I look around for Lucas's purple hippo, Cornelius, and grab him too. I'm embarrassed after yesterday. Should I be? I don't know, but Lucas saw me in a vulnerable position. More than once if you count him running across New York at night just to find me hugging my comfort stuffed animal. Yeah, I'm gonna count that.

The shock of my predicament has me feeling awake enough to move and I get out of bed. The room looks even bigger in the light of day. I don't know how to feel about that. I see the stack of my clothes that I grabbed from gone last night on the dresser and grab random things. Once I'm dressed in dark gray skinny jeans and an oversized sweater, I go out into the cold hallway.

I hesitantly make my way downstairs when I hear some kind of sport playing on the tv. My socked feet make no noise on the hardwood as I walk into the living room, but Lucas still turns his head in my direction.

He's sitting on the couch, his hair wet from what must have been a shower, and his mouth is packed open with cereal. He tries to tell me something but his mouth is so full that he just ends up spitting crumbs onto the leather couch. He looks at me and without breaking eye contact, slowly wipes them onto the floor.

       I give him a face that basically says I'm tired and am not amused. He smiles which just brings more crumbs onto the couch. It should be disgusting. It really should.

       I go to the enormous kitchen and grab the box of cereal that Lucas sloppily left on the counter and I pour myself a bowl. I've never had this brand before, but I've eaten some fucked up things so I don't really care if I like it. I go sit down next to Lucas and watch what looks like crocket or something.

       "No milk?" He asks pointing at my bowl of cereal. I shake my head.

       "I like milk, but definitely not in my cereal," I say taking a bite.

      "Weirdo," he mumbles. I glare at him and he sticks his tongue out at me.

       I look at the grandfather clock in the corner and see that it's already 10:30 in the morning. The clouds outside must have contributed to my late sleep. That and the fact that I was up pretty late, even for me. I continue eating my cereal, not bothering to call my mom. I'm not even sure if she's realized I'm gone.

     "So Rick," I say getting up to put my dish away after five minutes of staring blankly at the wall with Lucas chewing crunching beside me. He gets up and follows me to the kitchen. "Do you mind if I just stay in today? I don't want to risk running into my mom," I put the dish in the sink and start to wash it. It's Saturday so he might have plans. I didn't think of that. Why'd I even ask? I hate asking. Ugh.

      "Easy there Hart," he says reaching for the dish. "We have a dishwasher if you'd prefer," he opens the thing that I thought was just another refrigerator and there are dishes lining it from top to bottom. Ive never used a dishwasher and it honestly looks gross. "And yeah sure we can stay in." I let him take the bowl from me and load it into the washer.

       "We have board games," he suggests. I guess he didn't have plans. That seems strange, I know that our friend group is his main one but I guess I just assumed he has more. He exudes popular energy like he bathes in it daily. I shrug and agree. I've played board games with my mom when I was little but that was just Candy Land or Shoots and Ladders, nothing remotely like a game we would play as teenagers.

      Lucas bends down by the tv to rummage in a cabinet and pulls out a dusty box. He flips the lid to reveal at least 15 board games boxes. I don't recognize many. "Oh! How about Battleship?" He asks enthusiastically, holding up two folding containers.

       "You're on," I say grabbing one of them and moving to sit at the dining table and start placing my ships on my private board, no real strategy. I've played battleship with Auggie once when I was babysitting and I let him win, but it was fun and I can't wait to actually win.

. . .

      "Booyah! I believe that's four wins for me and none for you!" Lucas says standing up and raising his arms victoriously. I roll my eyes. Of course he's a show boat.

     "Rematch!" I demand. "I will beat you. I'm just biding my time," it's obviously a lie.

     "Might as well give up now, Clutterbucket,"

      "Never. I refuse to lose to a cowboy," I say already setting my ships up for another round.

      "Little late for that," he says pointing at himself and mouthing "four". His hair is dry now, looking perfectly like he styled it, which I know he didn't. I hate it.

       "We'll see. Now shut up and let me beat you," he laughs and finally sits down.

       We're halfway through and I'm two ships ahead of him when I catch him looking at me. Im staring at the back of his board as I'm deciding what move to take and he's just staring at me. I look up and he quickly looks away, clearing his throat and studying his own ships. He's probably just waiting impatiently for me to take my turn. Right?

       No, he's trying to psych me out. Trying to distract me. Not gonna work.