The Foster Kid (Part 10) (A Foster The People Fan Fiction)

Mornings

            Ryan left for his shift ages ago and I had Beau all to myself. I didn’t feel so great, but it has nothing to do with the conversation earlier today. It’s more like to this weird gut feeling that came out of nowhere. I hated it and I had no idea on how to get rid of it. Not only that, but Beau couldn’t stop bothering me. He was always poking his muzzle on my chest, which was really annoying. I kept on pushing him away, but he kept on coming back. Weird things has been happening lately, but good things followed. The best part of the cycle. Well, life is always has surprises for you. “God, Beau. Would you please stop it? It’s annoying.”

            He whimpered and I’ve always hated that puppy dog eyes of his because of its adorableness. He pushed his face on my stomach and somehow managed to get  comfy.

            “What’s gotten into you?” I scratched his ear, “You’ll like Stella, she doesn’t kill. Stop poking, it’s actually starting to hurt.”

            He sat straight and stared at me.

            “I know that you were taught to serve and protect by master Toby, but you don’t have to do that anymore. Let’s both be lazy. Trust me, it’s the best thing that’s going to ever happen in your life.”

            He whimpered again and dropped his head on my stomach.

            “You’re being weird today.” I muttered under my breath.

            Beau was seriously acting weird. Should I be worried? He wouldn’t stop following me everywhere, including bathroom trips. I’m starting to settle on a conclusion that I smell like bacon to him or something. If I tried to lock the bathroom door, he would start attacking it until I opened it. I somehow ended up playing hide and go seek with him, which apparently annoyed him a little. Yea, I guess I’m pretty much lonely at that time. And then Cubbie called. Dun dun duuunnnn. “Hello?”

            “Hey, superman.”

            “Hi.”

            “Do you hate me?”

            “No.”

            “Are you mad at me?”

            “No.”

            “Do you wish to murder me when I sleep?”

            “No. Cubbie, why are you asking me all those questions?”                       

            “I called your brother last night.” I could hear his reluctance,

            “Yea, I know that.”

            “Wait, you do?”

            “He called me at three thirty in the morning.”

            “Did he tell you everything?”

            “Not everything.” I lied because I want to hear the story from his side, “He just apologized.”

            “Are you two okay now?”

            “Better than ever.” I smiled, “He’s coming to LA.”

            “He is?”

            “He is.”

            “Are you sure he didn’t tell you everything?”