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HISTORY
It had become a nightly ritual, it seemed. Every night the boys and I would get together and gather various comforters before settling on the floor all around Tripp's leisure room. The boys would pick some film to watch and we would all snuggle up and eventually fall asleep sometime during the movie.
I awoke Tuesday morning in Tripp's arms, definitely taken by surprise.
Scooting over, I slowly sat up. The guys were still asleep, and the TV was playing some John Cusack movie.
I got up and went up to my bathroom to shower and freshen up before coming back down into the kitchen, finding Chef making breakfast.
"Chloey, good morning. Breakfast is ready. Do you have anything particular in mind?" Chef asked.
I shrugged. "Surprise me."
Chef went and gathered a plate and I watched him fill it with various colors of food.
Tripp came into the kitchen with the other guys following behind. They were all yawning and scratching themselves as they padded barefoot into the room and over to the island.
Gavin took the seat nearest me and gave my shoulder a playful slug. "Morning, Chloey."
"Morning, Gav," I replied as Chef set my plate down in front of me.
Before me sat a plate of scrambled eggs mixed with various colored peppers and a hint of onions, grits, some hash browns, and a couple of pancakes doused in strawberry syrup like I liked. All of the colors made the meal even more appealing than my hungry stomach could've asked for.
Hurriedly I grabbed my fork to take a bite, but was disheartened when a hand reached out from behind me and pushed the plate away from me.
Tripp was standing behind me, eyeing me with an apologetic smile. "Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to go out for breakfast this morning."
Gavin faced Tripp. "But Chef just cooked a kickass breakfast for us, man."
Tripp briefly looked to his best friend. "I was talking to Chloey. I wanna go out just one on one today, Gav."
I did want to eat Chef's nicely prepared meal, but a part of me sympathized with Tripp. My stay was coming to a close, and we hadn't spent too much time alone together and I knew Tripp really wanted that.
Somewhere from the moment I stepped foot in L.A., to the recent events that plagued Tripp, I had become a Tripper. Not for his music, but for Tripp the person.
And for that I stood from the counter. "Sure, Tripp."
Tripp adopted a smile. He turned to Chef. "Rain check?"
