I felt my stomach rumble, but I ignored it. I didn't stop writing until I heard the sound of the speed drumming stop. It was strange that the house was silent. Then I heard a knock on my door.
"Yeah, Rodrick," I said looking up. The door opened and he was standing in the doorway.
"Are you hungry?" He asked.
"Oh my gosh yes," I said quickly, sitting up on my bed.
"The problem is there is no food here, and all of the grocery stores are closed." Said Rodrick, he looked down. Then he looked up at me. "Wait we go to the 7-Eleven on Broadway."
"Good idea I don't have a lot of money," I said, excited to finally eat.
"Nah, on me." Said Rodrick with a smile. I gave a playful scoff.
"Fine, but I'm driving," I said as I shut my journal and jumped off of my bed. Rodrick put up his arms in defense. We made our way out the door and walked towards my small, rusty, green sedan. Then I realized there was another car, a van. It was very old as well, large and white, with the words Löded Diper crudely painted on with black spray paint. "That yours?" I asked.
"Löded Diper all the way." He said confidently with a smile. I rolled my eyes, walked around my car, opened the door, and climbed into the driver's seat. Rodrick was already in the passenger's seat. I saw his hand reach for the radio dial.
"The radio's out," I said.
"Well, good thing you have me to fix it for you," Rodrick said, leaning back in the chair, giving me a cool smirk.
"I know how to fix it silly, I just don't have the parts," I said. Rodrick then pressed the on-button for the cassette player, and Madame Butterfly came streaming out of the dusty speakers.
"Ugh, what is this?" He asked disgustedly as I began to drive down the road with headlights that were just a little too dim.
"Madame Butterfly," I replied with a nod. "The previous owner jammed it into the cassette player, it's all I had to listen to for the six years I've had this car."
"She's really good." Said Rodrick, taking a moment to listen to the music. A high, round female voice was sounding throughout the car.
"I know, I love this Aria, I sing it all the time," I said giddily.
"You sing." He said to me, not in a question, just a little surprised.
"I've been taking choir since fourth grade, I got a partial choral scholarship at St. Adwen's University, where I majored in Music and Theatre Performance. Also, I'm auditioning for a musical on Saturday, so yes I sing." I said, looking at him for a split second before putting my eyes back on the road.
"Owen, why don't you give us a little show now?" He asked, pointing at the cassette tape. I rolled my eyes.
"No!" I implored. "I have an audition in two days. I need to rest and save my voice. Speaking of which, I can't have any dairy or sugar tonight, tomorrow, or Saturday."
"Why?" He scoffed.
"I don't make the rules, my vocal cords do!" I exclaimed. Rodrick laughed. "Now what?" I asked, getting rather annoyed.
"Oh, look there it is," Rodrick said, changing the subject and pointing to the bright, neon 7-Eleven sign. I smiled before pulling into the parking lot and stopping the car. The two of us jumped out of the car and walked inside. The bright, fluorescent lights were a little jarring, but it was fine. "Hey, what do you want?" He asked.
"Chicken tenders," I replied. I looked around the 7-Eleven, the lights made me look sick or something, but before I knew it, Rodrick was handing me a small paper container with my food and we were walking out of the door.
"Wow, this is good," Rodrick said, still chewing a bite of a hot dog. I nodded as I swallowed a chicken tender.
"Where are we going to eat?" I asked.
"Right here." He said. Rodrick had just reached my car and he jumped on its hood. I smiled and did the same. So there we were, sitting next to each other on the hood of my 1993 green Toyota Corolla. "Next time we're taking my van."
"Here's to sitting on the hood of my worthless car in the dark 7-Eleven parking lot, at an ungodly hour, where we might be murdered," I said, holding up my paper, chicken tender basket.
"Here's to new roommates." He said, holding up his half-eaten hot dog. We hit our two items of food together for cheers. There were a few more moments of silence. "Wait a minute, we had homeroom freshman year, and PE senior." I slumped on the hood of my car and thought for a second.
"Oh, I think you're right," I said. A little while later we had thrown away our paper containers and we climbed back into my car, and I began to drive down the highway. Madame Butterfly blaring on the speakers.
"Hey, that grocery store is open," Rodrick said. He pointed to a giant, bright blue superstore with its own set of bright fluorescent lights. We both looked at each other, and we both knew what each other was thinking. I turned off the cassette tape and drove up the giant grocery store.
"What do we need?" I asked as we sat in my car in the relatively empty parking lot. Rodrick sighed.
"Well, I have some butter, salt, eggs, and sugar for some reason. There's some baking soda in the fridge I think." Rodrick said with a shrug. Then my eyes widened, my jaw dropped and an idea popped into my head. "What?" He asked.
"Tomorrow, we're baking chocolate chip cookies," I said with a smile. Rodrick shrugged and his face was plain.
"Sure, but I have a shift at Subway tomorrow, I have work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from eight to three, and at four I have to practice with my band. We can start baking the cookies at seven. What do we need?" He asked.
"That works. Well, you already have most of the ingredients. I guess all we need is flour, brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate chips. Then you can be in charge of getting any real food we need for meals, and we can split the grocery bill." I said.
"Agreed." Said Rodrick with his smirking smile. We opened the car doors and began to walk towards the automatic doors. "You know I wish we had more classes together, I'm having fun with you."
I gave a shy smile, and I felt my cheeks grow hot, thank goodness it was dark or he might have noticed. "Thanks," I replied kindly, the light from the grocery store finally illuminating our faces as the automatic doors opened.
"Ok, divide and conquer," Rodrick said as he handed me a red, plastic, handheld basket and took one for him. I chuckled. We both nodded at each other, and split in different directions, completely ignoring the fresh produce section. He took an aisle with the label "Frozen Foods" and I found one with the label "Baking".
I walked around the aisle, picking up the ingredients I needed as I went on. There was a girl, maybe a few years younger than me, on the other side of the aisle. I then began to weave through the other aisles to see if there was anything else we needed. I picked up a large container of sprinkles just for the heck of it.
I began to walk down the back of the grocery store, near the meat section, looking down all of the aisles. A few more minutes passed. Then, I saw Rodrick. I walked over to him until I was a few inches behind him, and I tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, saw me, and smiled, he seemed a little surprised.
"What's the haul?" I asked as I showed Rodrick my basket with only five ingredients in it. He was looking at frozen waffles.
"Uh, some cereal, milk, bread, peanut butter, bologna, chips, soda, hot dogs, chicken tenders, ice cream." Rodrick dragged on.
"Very healthy," I remarked sarcastically.
"Sure, whatever, Mom!" Rodrick said. I rolled my eyes. "I'm ready to check out, are you?"
"Yeah," I said as I began to walk over to one of the many cash registers. We waited for all of our groceries to be packed by a tired-looking worker, and we grimaced slightly at the cost. However, we found a way to split the bill through some extra cash and his credit card. There were eight bags of groceries, and we each took four.
"Good thing these aren't super heavy," Rodrick remarked as we both walked through the sliding automatic door.
"I don't know how I'm going to be able to open the trunk," I said as I attempted to fumble with the keys. I heard the sound of a car unlocking, and then the trunk opened. We both walked a little faster until we were both able to nestle all of our groceries in the small trunk.
"What time is it? I can't read that clock." Rodrick said as I began to start the car and pull out of the parking space.
"Wow, 11:07 already," I said looking at the analog clock in my car.
"I call dibs on the shower first," Rodrick interjected as we drove down the long, dark highway.
"Ugh, fine," I said. "Also, do you have a large piece of wood or something, I need to practice my tap dancing for the audition."
"I don't care if you scratch up the hardwood floor as long as you practice in your room," Rodrick replied. I reached for the cassette player button. "Also, no more Misses Dragonfly." He said. I chuckled.
"Madame Butterfly." I corrected.