Chapter 6: Breakfast Breakdowns

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The next day, I was awoken by the soft sounds of Jack trying to delicately wiggle his way out of the room quietly. He walked gradually, and with caution, avoiding all the piles of crumpled up homework, unfolded clothes, and empty disc cases for my PS4. Fuck, my room was dirty, I really need to clean it.

His eyes were busy scanning the floor until I made the small movement to lift my head up to see him better, causing the headboard to squeak. Panicked, Jack's eyes shot up within a millisecond, making eye contact with me. His face was soon painted with a crimson red paint, and his eyes were wide and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Dalton, I'm so so sorry. God, I'm so stupid, I should have been quieter! I'm really rea-" he was rambling his words and quietly whispering to himself, aggressively.

"Dude, it's fine. Don't worry about it, I should be getting up soon, anyways." I cut him off.

"You're not mad?" He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed his tense shoulders.

"Mad that you accidentally woke me up, even though it's like 11:30?" I laughed, shaking my head.

His face dropped to the floor and he nodded his head quickly, before shyly muttering another "Sorry." and then making a swift exit to the door. He was gone before I could even object, not that I was going to.

What is his problem? I'm not even that bad.

Getting up, I got ready, showered, and brushed my teeth before making my way downstairs to get some food.

However, when I reached the last step of the stairs, instead of being smacked with the scent of freshly cooked crispy bacon and the familiar sight of a beaming mother with an apron tied around her waist, a strong, almost sickly scent of burning filled my nose instantly, and the boy, Jack, was running about, panicking, with a tea towel in his hand trying to air out the thick smoke that enveloped him.

That's when my eyes quickly caught sight of the smoke alarm on the ceiling, and just as I predicted, within a nanosecond, the ear screeching screams, the ones you hear in a nightmare, of the smoke alarm boomed through the house, making both, Jack and I wince and bring our hands up to our ears, in a pathetic attempt to mute out the brash sounds.

Soon, he was desperately reaching up, trying urgently to reach the alarm high on the ceiling, he was freaking out, heavy breaths and heart racing.

That's when I came back to reality from my gaze. I realised the whole time this had happened, I was just standing at the staircase, watching him. I ran through the, now unclear, hallway and into the kitchen, where I reached up, turning the alarm off with ease. I ran to the windows and back door, opening them immediately to try and clear up the grey air. That's when I finally focused on the chesty coughs that were erupting behind me.

I spun my body to face Jack, being able to see his figure a little clearer now, and dropped to my knees so that I could see him completely. He was currently sitting on the floor, legs wrapped into his chest and back resting against the closed oven. He was coughing. A lot. His cheeks were red and his eyes were watering.

"Hey, man, you okay?" I nearly yelled, adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the previous events. However, instead of a reply, Jack simply just coughed more and more, each cough becoming more violent and chesty.

I didn't really know what to do if I'm honest. My mind wandered straight to the sink, I jumped up and pulled out a glass, before filling it with water and almost throwing it back at Jack. He took the glass in his shaking hand and began taking small sips. It didn't seem to help at first, but as the seconds went by, the coughing slowed to a stop and Jack could finally breath properly again. His eyes closed, tightly squeezing, as his head fell backwards, leaning against the oven door. Once his breaths had slowed down slightly, I spoke up.

"Are you okay?" I asked, hurriedly.

"Y-yeah, uh sorry about that." His voice was croaky and cracked, and his head had now made its way to facing the floor, hiding his face from me.

"It's fine, I'm just confused."

"it was kind of l-like an asthma attack, but not as uh, as bad I'm guessing since it stopped with- without my inhaler. It was triggered by t-the smoke." He mumbled.

"Oh yeah, how'd you manage to nearly burn the house down, man?"

"Your parents had to run off s-somewhere, and so t-they asked if I uh could cook myself breakfast. I didn't w-want to be an uh, a burden so I assured t-them that it was fine. T-turns out you can't microwave metal." He was speaking so fast, rushing over each word.

"Why did you put metal in the microwave, you were making breakfast." I asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I wanted Nutella and it was really s-solid so I put it in the microwave and I think I put the knife in there too, a-and I walked away and came back a minute later t-to it all burnt." His cheeks were bright red now, which I found funny.

"Do you know how a kitchen works?" I laughed.

"N-not really. We never r-really had um food in the kitchen so I could n-never make anything." And with that short sentence, the mood died instantly. The atmosphere became awkward and tense.

I know he didn't have the greatest background but I'm really not good at having deep and meaningful conversations. It's not my strong suit.

"Come on, lets clear up in here and make some proper food." I sighed as I stood up, holding out a hand for Jack. He gingerly took it and hoisted his little body up, before backing away from me, promptly and walking over to the opposite side of the island counter.

The smoke had completely gone at this point, leaving the clearly destroyed microwave in plain view of both of us.

"Oh, no. Oh my God!" Jack began to pace around the room, his breaths becoming rapid.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"I shouldn't have stayed here, a-all I have done is break things. Oh my God. Oh my God. I am so sorry for ever coming here, I- I am such an idiot." His face was still red, but I'm pretty certain it was because of his anger towards himself now.

"I-I need to uhh leave, I c-can't stay, I'll just be a b-burden." He was now making his way towards the door to the hallway, assuming to get his stuff.

I rolled my eyes, before swiftly walking towards the door and grabbing his arm, pulling him away from the direction of the stairs.

"Wait there." I demanded.

His eyes were fully widened at this point, probably from stress, overthinking, fear.

I walked to the front door and turned to face the coat rack, pulling out two jackets for him and I.

"Put this on and follow me." I threw him the navy Superdry jacket.

Without hesitation, he slipped on the jacket swiftly, and threw me a confused look. I ran to my room and grabbed my wallet and keys before exiting the house, Jack close behind me. I gestured for him to get in my car and he did so.

"W-what are we doing?" His voice was quiet, still croaky from his coughing fit earlier.

"To buy a new microwave so my parents won't find out." I said, nonchalantly.

"Wait, w-what?" he turned to me, shocked.

"You clearly can't leave our house so the only way for you to get your shit together again is by fixing the mess you made without my parents knowing. We will replace the microwave before my parents get home so they'll never know. Sound okay?"

"Ye-yeah, w-why though?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you h-helping m-me, I thought you h-hated me." His body was facing away from me now, avoiding having to look at me.

"You were freaking out and I didn't know what to do, I still hate you little guy, don't worry." I rolled my eyes, laughing slightly.

"T-thank you." He murmured into the sleeve of the jacket.

"Whatever."

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