Chapter 28 Avalon
twenty-eight
Avalon
I’m starting to get used to my mom not being here. At first, it felt like the end of the world. I thought worrying about her would consume me, but I’ve slowly realized that it’s not fair to me if I let her do that. I’ve put so much of my life on the back burner because of her and her issues.
Fuck, I didn’t even go to the cops when she stole from me, which at this point, I probably won’t get the rest of that money back, but I don’t care.
Zeke’s really helped me get out of my head.
It’s hard to overthink my problems when he’s inside of me.
The world doesn’t exist when we’re having sex, and I don’t mind that feeling one bit. Not anymore.
“Hey.” My front door opens, and Zeke walks inside with a few bags of groceries.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making dinner.”
“What about your banquet?”
“I left.”
“The banquet started like an hour and a half ago.”
“Yeah, and each second of it was torture.” He drops the bags onto the kitchen counter. “What are you watching?”
“Bones,” I reply. “I started it after you left.”
“Bones?” He starts pulling out groceries. “Sounds stupid.”
“It’s actually really good. It’s about this anthropologist and her team who work with an FBI agent to solve murders.”
He throws away the bags from the groceries and heads to the sink to wash his hands, “Sounds really interesting.”
“I can start it over. I’m only a couple episodes in.”
“That’s alright,” he says, grabbing a pot from one of the cabinets.
“I don’t like your condescending tone,” I argue. “I give you five minutes before you’re completely invested.”
“Sure.” He doesn’t look at me as I press play on the show; instead, he focuses on whatever he’s making.
I didn’t even know Zeke knew how to cook. Aside from the meal on Thanksgiving, he’s only ever brought takeout to my place.
“What are you making?” I tilt my head back toward him but try to keep my eyes on the TV.
“You’ll find out when it’s ready. I wouldn’t want you missing any of your precious show.”
“Whatever.” I sink further into the corner of the couch as I direct my attention back to the show, the faint sounds of chopping occasionally causing me to turn my head to see if I can figure out what he’s cooking for us. “Do you need help?”
“Nope.”
“Alright.”
Her name is Bones?” Zeke leans against the kitchen counter, his eyes glued to the TV. “Who names their kid Bones?”
“It’s a nickname that Booth calls her.”
“His name’s Booth? What kind of name is Booth? That’s almost worse than Bones.”
“That’s his last name; his first name is Seeley.”
His nose scrunches up as he turns back into the kitchen, “I see why he goes by Booth.”
“You’re totally into this show.” I pause it and skip into the kitchen. “You were invested the second I pressed play.”
“I was just confused as to what was going on. It wasn’t interest in the show; it was interest in me trying to figure out how they started working together in the first place.”
“We don’t really know that.” I hop onto the kitchen counter. “We just know that they met before the pilot, and now they work together to solve these murders, but there’s all this tension between them.”
“Sexual tension,” he adds. “They’ve totally hooked up.”
“They have not.”
“You said it yourself; we don’t know what happened between them before the pilot.” He takes the lid off the pot and stirs whatever’s inside, the delicious smell engulfing the air.
It’s a familiar smell. A very familiar smell. I just can’t put my finger on it.
“I guess that’s true.”
“And the killer’s totally the doctor guy.” He puts the lid back on the pot.
“And why do you know that?”
“He just rubs me the wrong way. I like the nerdy kid, Zach, though. I just don’t understand how all of these people started working together.
Like, did the brown-haired girl go to school to draw dead people?
I didn’t even know that was a thing. Are they the same people who draw sketches of criminals, or is that a complete—”
“That’s it, we’re starting the show from the beginning.”
“But you’ve already seen those ones.”
“And you haven’t. Maybe you wouldn’t have all these questions if you started the show from the first episode.”
“But we’re almost done with the fourth episode, and I already know who the killer is in episode three.”
“So, you’ll get to know who the killer is before the rest of the Jeffersonian team. Good for you.”
I slide off the counter, head back to the TV, and start Bones over from episode one.
“Are you gonna continue to watch the show from the kitchen?” I stop the episode as it begins.
“I’ll be there in just a second. Dinner’s ready, so I’m plating it.”
“Plating it?” I cock an eyebrow. “Sounds so fancy.”
“Oh, it is.”
It only takes him a few moments to plate the food, and then he walks over and sits the plates down on the coffee table in front of me before heading back into the kitchen.
It doesn’t take me long to realize what he’s made for us for dinner.
“Is this—”
“Sudado de pollo.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Hopefully, I said that right.”
He hands me a can of root beer before sitting beside me.
“You said it perfectly.” I bite my bottom lip, looking at the food, and then I look back at him. I’m not usually emotional, but it’s taking everything in me not to tear up right now. “My Abuela used to make this for me.”
“I know,” he says it so nonchalantly, like it’s not a big deal, even though it’s the biggest deal.
I lean forward, pressing my lips to his cheek, “Thank you.”