Disclaimer: I threw a lot of references in here. I don't own any of Lin's stuff, or anything from Twenty One Pilots, Sherlock, or Green Day. There will be more action next chapter. I promise.
Also thank you Ranger-Corpses for your reviews. It's nice to know someone enjoys these.
~~~
"I'm walking down the line/ That divides me somewhere in-"
I sit up and stretch, my muscles relaxing and leaving me with the urge to flop back down into my pillows.
Accepter.
"Morning, John."
By the way, the ringtone? His idea. John's really into Green Day.
"It's almost noon, Laf. Honestly."
I envision him rolling his eyes, with a bowl of peanut-butter oatmeal in one hand (I still don't know if that's some weird American thing or some weird John thing, though it's probably the latter). "Your fault, mon ami."
"Look, the fact that you need a wake-up call-"
Wake-up call.
Adri.
"Merde," I murmur to myself. "I have an excuse," I tell John. "J'habite seul. You're telling me Alex didn't wake you up to remind you to wake me up?"
Silence. "Damn." He sighs. "You doing anything today?"
"Nope." I reach for the doorknob and yelp as static pricks my finger. "C'est le weekend and I'm doing nothing. I'll call you back later. I need to get dressed first."
~~~
Blink.
Smack smack
Yelch
Ugh. Gross.
I gotta brush my teeth
Jesus.
Unfortunately,
brain has stopped.
Okay?
Yeah.
Sure.
Whatever.
It's a routine move.
Flop my hand around a few
times.
There's one,
aaaaaaand there's two.
Spinspinspinclick.
That one's good.
Spinspinspinclick.
And so is the other.
I wiggle my toes and
flex my fingers.
Stand up.
The house is
silent.
Straight to the bathroom
to get that awful taste
of death
off my tongue.
I look in the mirror.
My hair is a mess.
My eyes are dark with sleep.
My lips are chapped,
My eyebrows are hazardous,
And my eyelids bear the weight of ten sleepless Peggy nights.
Eh. Whatever.
I turn on the faucet
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
"AEEEEE!"
I TURN OFF THE FAUCET and breathe.
chhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmeee
Great.
Now I know where the phrase
"rude awakening"
comes from.
~~~
Crack.
The egg hisses as it spreads into the pan. I brush a piece of cheese off the next egg before cracking that one too, dumping half a bag of mozzarella after it and scraping the eggs off the bottom of the skillet. In a separate pan bacon sizzles, even though I have more piled on a plate in the oven, which is keeping it warm.
Cooking is one of the few things I'm really good at, and one of the only things I have over my friends.
Alex said once that it's because I'm French, to which John responded by putting a finger under his nose and flouncing around shouting "HON HON HON BAGUETTES!"
To each their own, but I smacked Alex with a baguette.
I stand there stirring the eggs around for a minute, watching the cheese melt in gooey strings.
My phone on the counter buzzes.
Throw down the key
Without putting down the spatula I crank open the kitchen window. The breeze from outside gives me goosebumps as I drop the key to the porch.
Yes, that's probably a good way to get robbed. No, I don't really care.
The door clicks in the foyer. "I'm starved!" Alex shouts. "What's cooking?"
"Do you come here without eating just to get food?"
Alex sits on the couch and waits. He always sits for some reason, never flops or lies down. "Pretty much."
I gesture to the eggs with a wave of the spatula. "You know this is my breakfast?"
"I know you're going to share."
My mouth waters as I slide the finished eggs on a plate and yank the oven door open. The bacon sits there with open promises.
Mon Dieu, I'm hungry.
"Not this time, mon ami. You can have a piece of bacon, but that's it. Go make some toast."
~~~
I
crank
down
the
ocean
and take a deep breath to calm myself down.
Wait.
*sniff*
Nothing else matters now and everyone better be out of my damn way I am a fox and I am on the hunt because THERE ARE CINNAMON ROLLS IN MY VICINITY AND I AM STARVING WITH INSATIABLE HUNGER SWEET JESUS THE LORD HAS COME BEARING GIFTS AND THEY ARE CINNAMONY AND SLATHERED IN ICING AND
"Morning, Peg!"
Eliza stands next to the oven holding a plate of cinnamon rolls. Her dark hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, strands hanging around her face.
"Sleep okay?"
"GIMME THE ROLLS!"
Her eyes widen at the sound of my voice, which is scratchy from sleep.
Usually I keep quiet in the mornings.
"Oh hell no. Angie?"
Angelica sashays into the kitchen. "Yeah?"
Eliza shoves the plate into my sister's hands.
"Run."
~~~
"Herc's coming over," Alex informs me. "I texted him." He sighs. "I'm bored." He's lying on my feet upside down, arms crossed. Somehow, he's not uncomfortable.
"Maybe getting off me would be a good start." I look up from my phone and wiggle my toes for emphasis. "You don't have homework, or any essays, or anything to un-bore you?"
"That's not a word," he says.
"I don't really care. One of-"
"TWO BROS, CHILLIN' ON A SOFA!' Without warning, John flounces in dramatically and strikes a pose. "FIVE FEET APART CUZ-"
"We're not gay," I finish. "You say it every time. How'd you even-"
Alex sits up. "I left the door open," he mutters.
"How'd he even find parking? I barely have enough room for my car."
"He paralleled in front of your driveway."
"WHAT?"
"You didn't know that?" Alex scoffs. "All the time. I told him the truck's getting totaled eventually but he didn't listen. He's too cocky."
"Fantastique."
"If anything, he's straight every time."
"John's not straight."
Alex smacks my arm. "The car, smart-ass."
"GOT ANY FOOD?!" John screams from the kitchen. I hear him yank open the fridge.
I swear…
"Go make some toast," Alex shouts back.
"And coffee," I add. Yeah, I know it's my apartment, but I'm not getting up. My feet are asleep anyway. "Didn't you already eat?"
"YOU'RE OUT OF ENGLISH MUFFINS!"
"I WASN'T AWARE I WAS YOUR MUFFIN MACHINE!" I shout back, realizing my mistake the moment the words leave my mouth.
Alex bursts out laughing. "Muffin… machine," he gasps, holding his sides.
I roll my eyes and shove him off the couch. "My mind switched halfway between 'vending machine' and 'muffin dispenser'. Pour l'amour de Dieu, stop laughing at me!"
~~~
My sister wheezes.
"Peg, get off."
"VICTORY IS MINE!"
I shove a roll into my mouth.
Oh.
They're amazing.
At least, compared to Dad's recipe.
He makes them from scratch
and they're perfect.
Man, we haven't had those in forever...
"Peggy."
I give Eliza a thumbs-up, my cheeks bulging. She snickers.
"I have your approval?"
"Mmmmmmm-hmmmmf."
I don't even stop Angie when she takes a roll.
"Peggy Schuyler, get off me."
"Wha..."
I snap out of my cinnamony-rolling-hills-happy-place.
"Sorry."
Angelica stays down for few seconds, breathing deeply. Then she gets up, picking carpet lint off her skinny jeans.
Only my sister wears skinny jeans in the morning.
"Please don't ever tackle me at eleven a.m. for a plate of cinnamon rolls."
~~~
So now I have two idiots to babysit.
Knock knock. "Laf?"
Scratch that. Three.
"Come in," I wheeze around Alex.
Herc pushes the door open tentatively, his gray beanie-d head poking around the corner. He's the only one of my friends who doesn't fling it open (cough cough, John).
He finds me on the couch and snorts. "Occupied?"
I crane my neck to glare at him, though it's difficult with Alex sitting directly on my chest, cross-legged. He's leaning back into the cushions casually, playing a game on his phone.
"Y'know, the sofa is probably more comfortable," Herc says to Alex, who shrugs.
"They're both the same."
Good to know I'm comfortable and squishy. "It's not the same," I say, straining my voice for emphasis. "Alex, get off."
"HERCULEEEEES!" John screams from the kitchen (he's on his seventh piece of bacon). He starts clapping and dancing around. "HERCULES, HERCULES, HERCULES, HERCULES-"
"Did-you-take-your-meds-on-this-fine-Saturday-morning?" Herc claps back, bouncing exaggeratedly on his toes.
John shoots him a glare. "Yes, doctor."
"In case you haven't noticed," Alex adds, getting to his feet and stretching, "John is hungry."
I tally up John's breakfast in my head: Two full cups of coffee, five slices of toast, and most of the bacon from breakfast. And my envisioned peanut butter oatmeal.
Herc tilts his head. "And?"
"Aaaaaand he's hungrier than usual whenever he's on medication."
Herc looks skeptical. "ADD shouldn't make you-"
John cuts him off. "You notice whether I'm on my meds or not?" His expression is confusion, shock, and satisfaction all rolled into one.
Alex meets his gaze. "Yeah. I can always tell."
John chuckles. "Huh."
"Through what, your deduction skills?" Herc does jazz hands. "Alex, you watch too much Sherlock."
"And The Office," I cut in. "And Parks and Recreation. And Merlin. Honestly mon ami, you're a psychopath."
"High-functioning sociopath," Alex mutters. "And you forgot Supernatural."
~~~
Silent showers
rock.
The steam settling like
a warm blanket,
a heated towel hanging over the door.
I always
drop
perfume on the ground
and the room
fills with sandalwood scented
steam.
Anxiety and the residue of
nightmares
like to go
d
o
w
n
t
h
e
d
r
a
i
n
with all the suds.
I'm in there for a solid half hour.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm doing stuff.
"I CAN'T SEE PAST MY OWN NOSE, I'M SEEING EVERYTHING IN SLOOO-MO LOOKOUT BELOW CRASHINGDOWNTOTHEGROUND-"
This'll be entertaining.
I like to record myself
singing without noise.
When I turn off the water, I'm thoroughly scrubbed and more than slightly scalded.
My fingers areitching to draw something.
~~~
"Okay, we need to go out for lunch," John says randomly. Finally satisfied with breakfast, he's sprawled on the floor. "Laf, it's Saturday."
I give him a look. "What's your point?"
"Get outside! See the world!"
"Climb the highest of mountains and punch the sky," Alex says sarcastically. "We should get food, though. What about takeout?"
"What, like real Mexican food from Chipotle?" Herc stretches, pushing his beanie off his brow. "Laf, where does Jefferson work again?"
"The Monticello. I can call him…"
Alex scowls. "I'd prefer Chipotle."
I glare at him. "Just because he works there doesn't make it a bad restaurant."
"Alright, let's go to Denny's then," I snap, knowing that will piss him off further- Alex hates Denny's. "No one goes to Denny's," he told me once. "You end up at Denny's in sad defeat."
"Then I want the Monti-cheeseburger."
"Great," John says. "Laf, you're driving."
"Pardon?"
John blinks. "You're. Driving."
"Um, no. I fed you guys this morning."
"We all drove twenty minutes to be here in your presence."
Merde.
"Fiiiiiiiiine," I groan. "But move your car first before I run it over."
~~~
When I come downstairs, the sisters are arguing about something.
Again.
"I like The Monticello," Eliza says, arms crossed. "The food's good, and I can call Thomas. He always treats me well."
"He like you, Eliza. Haven't you noticed he gives you all your coffee for free?"
Eliza scowls. "You know, it's a very real possibility that he's just being friendly. He knows I have a boyfriend."
Angelica rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Alex hates Jefferson. It pisses him off that- Oh, hey Peg."
About time. "Monticello is good. Their spicy fries are-" jazz hands- "stellar."
"To you, all fries are-" jazz hands- "stellar."
"No, I just like the word-" jazz hands- "stellar. We don't use the word-" jazz hands- "stellar enough."
"So who's getting the food?" Eliza interrupts my (jazz hands) stellar moment. She addresses the question to the wall, not making eye contact. I do the same.
"Nose goes."
Both my sisters make pig noses at me.
"Pe-eg," Angelica sing-songs.
"I can't drive unless a parent or guardian who is twenty-one or older accompanies me," I say quickly.
"Nice try. You got your license over the summer."
"And I legally cannot drive anyone around New York City-"
"Unless the passenger is of your immediate family," Angelica finishes, smirking.
"But I was planning to draw-"
"Nope. You're driving, and I'm coming with you."
"Eliza, are you-"
She raises her hands in defense. "I'm not going in a car driven by you. Please listen to Angie."
"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Angie winks at me.
"No car puns before I get on the road. I'm driving slow, and safe."
~Twenty minutes later~
"PEGGY!"
"AHHHHHH!"
