There was loud pounding on the door and Ellie rubbed her eyes and glared at the clock. She'd fallen asleep, finally, in front of the television and the same infomercials that they played every night. She ignored the knocking for a moment, but it didn't let up, so she dragged herself off the couch.
"What?" she said, swinging the door open. "Paige?" She raised an eyebrow and wrinkled her nose.
"Okay, hun, when even Alex is concerned, and blabbing to me about it, something has to be done. Can I come in?" Ellie shook her head, but Paige pushed past her. "Thanks. I'll pretend that was a nod and that you actually do know your manners."
Ellie rolled her eyes, but Paige's presence had at least served to distract her from Sean. Oh, yes, Sean, she was supposed to be fretting about him, she remembered.
"Um, eww," Paige said. "This place is a mess, it smells like skunk, and you look like you haven't showered in a year. What are you thinking? Boys come and go, but a reputation can be destroyed in an instant." Ellie supposed it was Paige's way of saying she cared--not that Ellie understood why. Ever since Paige had turned her in to Sauve for the cutting, the girl seemed to think she had a right to intrude upon Ellie's life.
"Paige, I really don't need this right now," Ellie insisted, but of course the other girl paid her no attention, drifting instead toward the kitchen and opening the fridge. She made a face, then pretended to suppress a gag as Bueller sniffed around her ankles.
"What is that THING?" she demanded. "And why does it stink so bad?" Ellie scooped the ferret up in her arms pretectively. She didn't think Paige would actually do anything to him, but Paige wasn't exactly predictable. "Okay, he's a ferret, I get it," Paige said. "My cousin had one. Give him here." Ellie, too stunned to react, relinquished her companion. "You, go shower," Paige continued. "And hun, deodorant is your friend. I'll see what I can do with the place. It can't be worse than cleaning up after my brother."
Ellie did as she was told. It was easier to obey than to argue. She returned some ten minutes later, her hair wet but clean, and wearing old but comfortable clothes. Paige had already finished the dishes, and was started on tidying Bueller's things.
"When was the last time you ate?" Paige asked. "Your fridge is, like, empty except for some fuzzy green stuff." Ellie shrugged, trying to remember. "Okay, whatever. I'll buy you something. Spin will just have to wait a little longer for his cash." Ellie wrinkled her brow, confused by her last statement, then dismissed it.
"You should go now," she said. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I can look after myself." She walked to the door and very pointedly opened it. Paige sighed, but took the hint.
"You really should--" The door slammed shut before Ellie could hear what Paige thought she 'really should' do. Ellie was curious for precisely one second, and then returned to wallowing. She was perfectly aware that wallowing in self-pity was precisely what she was doing, but it was strangely satisfying.
When the looked in the drawer later that day, Ellie had to laugh. Paige had taken every knife she could find--butter knives included. She wondered where Paige had thought to stash them, then brushed away the thought. It didn't matter, anyway--Ellie always made certain she had an ample supply of sharpness, going so far as to hide razor blades and knives around the house in case some were discovered. Speaking of which... Ah, the power of suggestion.