The next morning, the two emerged from Hillary's room holding hands. Jack wore a bathrobe and large pink curlers in their already short hair to heighten their disgruntled-middle-aged-mother-who-has-to-deal-with-these-crazy-teenagers look. They poured a cup of coffee for themselves, despite having never drank coffee in their life, and looked at Hillate. Tatary? Whatever their ship name was, they didn't care. They sipped some of their coffee, reveled in the disgusting taste of it, and swallowed it with regret.
"You two have fun last night?" They asked, the bitterness of the coffee coming out in their voice.
"Yeah. You do have Kurt Cobain!" Tate responded, a cheeky grin filling his face. God damn it, he was pretty cute, but Jack had to remain their composure.
"Mr. Cobain wasn't the only thing I heard last night." They said, high five-ing themselves in their head. Great comeback, Jack. A+. Hillary and Tate giggled. This was disgusting. "I'm going to shower." They slammed their coffee mug on the counter, accidentally shattering it. "Never buy cups from Target." Jack thought. They awkwardly scooped up the shards and threw them in the trash. They then stormed up the stairs, their comedically large bathrobe trailing behind them like a cape.
They reached the bathroom, but instead continued down the hall to the balcony. Having a three story house was pretty great if one needed to get away from their roommates. They overlooked the property from the second-story veranda. What was also pretty great about having a tall house was the views. Jack stared into the backyard of their neighbor's house. They didn't know who they were, since Hillary and them just moved in a week ago. They should probably go over and introduce themselves, but stalking them was a little more preferable at the moment. In the backyard, a teenager was working on some project. They could only see the back of the teen, but that wasn't a bad view. Sweat doused him, making a wet spot on his tee shirt. He then stopped suddenly, turned around, and looked back a few times. Jack could get a visual on them a little more clearly. Silver hair hung at his shoulders, a pair of goggles rested atop his forehead. His white teeshirt was even more soaked in the front, clinging to his chest and abdomen, which looked pretty great for a teenager. What happened next left Jack awestruck. He finished looking around, put his goggles on, and ran. He was a literal blur, his project taking form in a matter of seconds. In moments, a shed of some sort was erected in the far corner of the yard.
"Holy shit." They accidentally said way too loudly. The teenager turned and looked right up to them. His expression instantly turned to panic, and so did Jack's. They ran back inside the house, into the bathroom, and slammed the door. They turned on the water, trying to go over what they just witnessed.
In the kitchen, Tate held Hillary in his arms as they swung side to side lightly, enjoying the rock of their bodies together. He rested his chin on the top of her head, reminiscing over the night before.
"So, what do you want to do today?" Hillary asked, breaking the silence.
"We could play Twister." Tate responded jokingly.
"We did that last night." She replied, playing along.
"Well, we can do whatever," He kissed her forehead. "you," He kissed her cheek. "want." He planted a final kiss on her lips. She hid her face in her hands.
"You're so cute, it's disgusting!" Tate laughed. "But we should see what Jack wants to do." He pouted.
"Why?" He drew out the word.
"Because, they were the one who even bought the Ouija board. And we were roommates first."
"Ugh. Fine." He sighed. They let the silence sink in for a few moments. "Can we still play Twister?"
"Twister Twister or Twister Twister?" Hillary asked.
"Let's find out." Tate responded seductively. He took her hands and led her back to their bedroom.
A few hours later, the three were back in the kitchen. They stood around the counter, revving up for the day.
"So, a week ago we moved into Murderhouse, duh. Yesterday, we accidentally released Tate from a Ouija board I found." Jack started. Tate started cheering and Hillary elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Anyway," They continued. "We haven't introduced ourselves to the neighbors yet. It'd be nice if we did. And now that we have our final roommate," they eyed Tate. "We can all go over and say hi." Hillary clapped enthusiastically.
"Should we bring something?" She asked.
"Good idea, babe." Tate jutted in.
"Well, yeah. That is a good idea! The question is what, though." Jack said.
"A cake, maybe?" Tate suggested. "My mom would bake cakes for neighbors. They were really shitty cakes though. She sucked at baking. She sucked dick too. Dad left me alone with a cocksucker."
"...Okay...?" They responded. "TMI dude."
"Great idea, tater tot." Hillary responded.
"Not as great as you, Hilly-Billy!" Jack dry heaved in the sink. These nicknames were getting disgusting. But all in all, a cake was a good idea.
The team spent the next few hours baking, which was more fun than the three originally anticipated. They threw flour at each other, smeared icing on themselves, and overall just made a complete mess of the kitchen. Despite the situation they had found themselves in, for the first time since Tate arrived, they all felt that just maybe, they could all fit in together in this crazy house. Sure, one of them was dead, the other was only fifteen, and the third didn't even want to move into this weird house in the first place, but somehow in their differences, they found good company in each other. Maybe this house was pretty okay after all.