What It Seems | Wattys 2023

Chapter 11

My agenda is the same everyday: school, homework, eat, then sleep. Aiden's been busy, Jo's still getting her new home settled with her mom and sister, and, well, the other person, Baylor, who I haven't seen in about a week, has been absent.

"Aiden!" I call. No response.

"Aiden!" I holler just a bit louder. After the shouting at different volumes, there was still no answer. I decided to get my lazy butt up and go see what he was cooking for dinner tonight.

"Aiden, what're you cooking tonight?" I question as I spotted my older brother standing above the stove.

"Food," he sarcastically answered.

"What kind of food?" I inquire as I open the fridge door. Nothing seemed interesting to snack on until dinner, or whatever dinner was.

"Chicken Alfredo," Aiden finally admitted.

It's nice to have a home-cooked meal. For the past few weeks, we've had pizza, Chinese, or take-out. We haven't had a decent meal because Aiden always comes home late from the gym, and he never has time to cook. I'm not allowed to touch a stove because I have an unreasonable brother that thinks I'll burn the place down. The only time I almost caught the apartment on fire was about a year ago. I was cooking lasagna that was in TV dinner boxes from the grocery store. I left it in the oven for over four hours, forgetting about it, and the oven was almost on fire. Since then, Aiden has had this huge paranoia about me cooking except a few weeks ago when I cooked myself breakfast.

"It's done," Aiden said as he cut the kitchen light off with a bowl and a glass of sweet tea in his hands.

I fixed my bowl of Mom's secret recipe of Chicken Alfredo. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed to the living room.

"It's so good," Aiden slurped up a noodle.

After about an hour of letting our stomachs settle, we were both lying on the sofa, watching television.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you - I have a tournament. It's about . . . two weeks from now. It's in Philly."

Sometimes I hated being alone, but then sometimes I do. With only having one family member, it sucked.

"How long will you be gone?" I asked.

"Four, five, maybe six days."

Anyone could probably think that six days at the utmost would be okay, but really, it gets so lonely. There's no one to talk to and the absence of my brother would be weird. I see him every day. Last year, he didn't have competitions - well, only ones that were a few cities away and still in the state's margins. He'd be gone for a day or two, but this year has changed.

"When's the last time you've seen Baylor?" My mouth spoke before my mind could function.

"Last night. I went over to his place to check up on him before I came home. Poor guy is lonely," he laughed quietly. "But he's okay. He'll be fine in about a week and then he wants me to train him again."

Again? Aiden's trained him before?

"Again?" I perched.

"Yeah, he came to Shady Grove about two years ago. He stayed about two months and went back to Boston."

"What's in Boston? Does he have family there or something?" Aiden cut off the T.V and took his dish along with his glass to the kitchen.

"Well, yeah. That's where he lived before he came here."

***

It was Saturday afternoon, and yet again, I'm home alone. Aiden's at the gym, training and getting ready for his tournament in the next town over. Jo said she might come over later when she was done helping her family unpack.

I think a day of spending my time on the couch watching The Walking Dead on Netflix might just be it for today.

I popped a bag of popcorn and ate a few spoonfuls of Nutella while it was popping for two minutes. The microwave went off, signaling that my popcorn was done. I pulled the hot, steamy bag from the microwave and grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge.

Just as I sat down, there was a knock on the door. It must be Jo.

I jumped from the sofa and trotted to the door. Opening the wooden door without looking through the peep hole, there stood an at least six-foot-three guy, Baylor.

"Hey, Adalynne."

His grin was a pasty, toothy one and straight teeth in a perfect, undeviating set. His aftershave battered my senses, and he smelt so, so good. His tall, masculine build fit the gray t-shirt well, along with ripped jeans. His brunette hair fit his face daintily. His chocolate eyes appeared as if he had emerald and golden specks blotching around. The small freckle that I've never noticed before lied right above his cheek bone.

There's something wrong with me today. I'm just keeping this to myself and myself only: there's just something about guys who are tall, built, smell good, and have a sense of humor.

"Hey." I stride aside, letting the tall brunette by. His scent chased behind him. Instead of being the hushed one I am, which I am not, I advised him. "Aiden's not here. He went to the gym. He should be back later, though." I closed the door behind me and trailed behind Baylor into the living room. He didn't say anything; instead, he walked through the apartment.

"You like The Walking Dead?" He turned his head to look from the TV to me. I nodded my head twice. Did he not pay attention to what I said about Aiden?

"It's a good show. Finished one season in a day," Baylor boasted.

I rolled my eyes and lied, "I've finished two seasons in a day." He laughed at my lie before he sat on the sofa behind him.

Pointing his index finger to the flat screen, his head facing towards me with a cocked eyebrow, he spoke.

"You're only on season one, though." His grin rose to a huge beam. I shrugged my shoulders and sat on the couch. My popcorn is probably cold by now.

"So you're just going to stay here all by yourself, then?" Baylor inquired before I played episode seven of season two.

"No, well, Jo was supposed to be here, but I don't know for sure if she's still coming." If Jo doesn't arrive, maybe Baylor wouldn't mind hanging around.

I glanced over at Baylor who was staring at the TV, his arms crossed over his lower chest. The cuts around his face were barely visible and I knew his ribs weren't fully healed.

"Are you okay now?" I asked. His head turned, awakening from his daydream. His eyes glistened a little, and his feet uncrossed.

"Oh, yeah. If my ribs weren't sore, I would've beaten the shit out of him," he scoffed, swearing with his every might.

"No, you just can't fight," I smirked and giggled at his facial expression. His eyes were like daggers. I lost control of my laughter. Joking around with him was hilarious, and my giggle-box seemed like it switched on. By the time I was almost out of breath, he threw a pillow at me, hitting me in the side. My laughter halted but his didn't.

"You shouldn't get so worked up about Derek."

"I'm not getting worked up about it," Baylor admitted. I propped my forearm on the back of the couch and rotated my body to rest on my side. I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my torso against the top of my bare thighs. Instead of being shady and hiding my expressions, I decided to give Baylor full-on attention.

"Just never have anything to do with him."

"Why?" I asked curiously.

He glared at me. "He's not a good guy to be around."

I was staring at him. "Why have you been so quick to defend me if you hardly know me?"

He looked taken aback. "Hardly know –" he shook his head. "Aiden is like a brother to me. Anyone who is family to him is family to me," he stated. "At least that's the way I see it." He shrugged his shoulders.

It seemed more beyond that reasoning, though.