Magnetic

Chapter Twelve

Usually when my alarm clock would go off, my father would already be at work. While I got ready in the morning, I'd be completely alone.

So when I went downstairs after taking a shower to go fix myself breakfast, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of someone lying on my couch.

After successfully suppressing a scream, I realized it was Brady, and the memories of last night flooded back to me. Wondering if my father had tried to call me, I checked both my cell phone and the landline. Nothing.

I served two bowls of cereal on the kitchen table before gently shaking Brady to wake him up.

When his eyes finally fluttered open, he looked alarmed, as if he had forgotten why he was in my living room. But after a moment, a wave of realization rushed over his face. "Good morning, Nicki," he said in a sleepy voice before yawning loudly.

"Breakfast is on the table," I told him, skipping the morning formalities. "I hope you like cereal."

"I think I ate enough yesterday to last me a week," he replied, forcing himself off of the couch.

"Well, you can stand, so I think you're making progress."

"My food baby tells me differently." He placed an arm over his stomach. It was still perfectly flat, so I didn't really understand what he was talking about.

Although he had said he wasn't hungry, Brady still scarfed down the whole bowl of cereal and drank the leftover milk. As I placed the bowls and spoons into the sink for me to wash after school, Brady asked, "You have any clean shirts I can wear?"

"I've got clean shirts, but I doubt they'll fit you."

"Ha, ha. Can I borrow one of your dad's?"

My dad was pretty lanky, but extremely tall, while Brady was around average height. Even my father's tightest shirts would be pretty loose on him. "I doubt those will fit, either."

"I don't care. I'll bring it back right after school, when I go home and change. If he's got any cologne or deodorant I could take as well, I'll buy him some new ones."

"No, I can buy new ones. You did me a favor last night, and I definitely owe you."

Brady rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a favor. It was a friend helping a friend. In case that concept doesn't exist in New York, that's what friends do."

"Whatever," I said, that joke hitting a sore spot a little too hard. "You can use the stuff in my dad's bedroom. Up the stairs, second door on your left."

~~~

When we met in Brady's truck, we had ten minutes to get to school. Which would usually be plenty of time, except we had to first swing by his house to pick up his backpack.

Right when we reached his steep driveway, he jumped out of the truck and ran into his house, forgetting to put the car in park.

"Brady!" I shrieked as the car slowly, but surely, slid down the driveway and onto the street. There was no use in me yelling, so I tried to pull the emergency break. And like many other things in his car, it did not work.

Three minutes later, I was blocking traffic in both lanes. Cars were honking at me so I tried to push myself into the driver's seat to move the truck out of the way. When Brady finished saying goodbye to his mom, looked out the glass door, and saw me in the middle of the road, he dashed outside, his heavy black backpack bouncing behind him.

"Sorry!" he apologized, sliding between cars to reach me. I slid back to the passenger's seat to make room for him.

When he closed the car door behind him and drove the car back up the driveway, I made it a point to completely ignore him whenever he'd say anything.