Chapter 15 #2
“It was an accident. I let the frying pan get too hot and kind of wasn’t paying attention. I’ll have your lunch ready in a couple minutes,” I said, pointing to the pot. “I think the soup’s almost done.”
The werewolf gasped, turning the burner off before lifting the lid. The once watery mixture had gotten so thick that it splattered instead of boiled. He gave it a quick sniff. “How the hell did you burn soup? It’s SOUP!”
“I didn’t burn it,” I said, examining the pale red concoction. “Looks fine to me.”
Austin grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the pot before scooping something thick from the bottom. He pulled up the utensil to reveal a clump of char.
“How did that happen?”
“Out,” Austin barked, pointing toward the direction of the living room.
“At least let me clean—”
“Get the hell out of here!” he shouted again, giving me a hard shove away from the stove.
“I was just trying to make you lunch,” I said, my voice a bit quivery as I exited the kitchen.
My attempt at garnering some civility between us had gone up in smoke.
Literally. After sauntering into the bedroom, I sat down on the mattress and glanced at the clock.
It read five minutes past three, which I found odd.
Either the time was wrong, or I had been cooking for about forty-five minutes.
That had been happening to me a lot. The time skips would always start with me doing something mundane like watching TV or listening to music by myself, but then my mind would wander. An hour would pass in almost a blink, and sometimes I’d rest my eyes only to wake up several hours later.
I lay back on the pillows and stared at the hazy ceiling, thinking about what else I could do to salvage this day.
A giant hand shook my shoulder, startling me awake. Austin looked down at me with the usual grimace.
“When did I fall asleep?”
“Time to eat,” he grunted before leaving the bedroom.
It took a moment to reorient as I got out of bed and stumbled into the dining room.
Austin was scarfing down one of his seven grilled cheese sandwiches, and next to him was a neatly placed saucer stacked with two sandwiches, a spoon on a folded napkin, and a steaming bowl of pale red soup with some oregano flakes.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” I said before pulling my chair up to the table.
“I can’t. It’s canned soup and grilled cheese. Eight-year-olds know how to make it.” He frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart or something?”
“I don’t know why everyone thinks that’s so special.” I took a bite of the sandwich, which was perfectly fried.
“You’re the only one here that went to college. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with you. You learned so much useless crap that you ended up pushing out all the important stuff.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, silently grinding my teeth.
I wasn’t angry because he was rude, I was more embarrassed because it might have been true.
Four years of thinking I was better than my parents because I was supposedly more educated, only to find out I hadn’t learned anything useful.
Now that I was a half-turn, I couldn’t even put the useful stuff to any use.
The werewolf folded one of the sandwiches and dipped it into the bowl before taking a bite.
“Ew.”
“Try it,” he said with his mouth full.
I pushed the bowl away from me. “You eat it. I don’t like tomatoes.”
“What are you talking about? You eat tomatoes all the damn time.”
“That’s different. They’re usually in something. Not the something.”
“Have you ever tasted it?”
I shook my head.
“You can’t say you don’t like something if you haven’t even tried it.”
“I’ve never eaten pussy either, but I’m quite sure I wouldn’t enjoy it,” I muttered, picking up the spoon.
“It sure smells… tomato-y.” After dipping the spoon into the bowl, I held it to my lips and gave it a taste.
My mind wanted to reject it immediately, but my mouth didn’t.
There was a sweetness that complemented the savory, and the milk gave everything a creamy mouthfeel. “Hmm…”
“Kinda makes you want to try pussy now, huh?” Austin smirked. “Now, dip your sandwich in it.”
“I’m gonna have to draw the line there.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, going back to his meal.
I let out another contemplative hum, hesitated a moment before finally dipping the tip of my sandwich into the soup. Maybe if I pretended it was delicious, it would lighten him up a little.
I took a bite and started to put on a show. “Mmm—this is…” The flavor hit me, and there was no longer a reason to pretend. “Why have I never known about this?”
Austin stuffed the last sandwich into his mouth. “When I was little, my grams used to make this for us.”
“Us?”
He finished chewing but sat still on the chair. The look in his eyes was terrifyingly similar to the other night.
“You don’t have to say anything else.”
His breath quickened, and he scooted away, gripping the fur on the sides of his head while rocking back and forth.
I shot up and tried to put my arm around him, but he smacked me so hard with the back of his hand that I went airborne, slamming into the wall before falling to the floor. Ignoring the pain in my head, I stumbled to my feet and tried to console him again.
Austin let out a horrible snarl and lunged for me in a panic, knocking the table upward. Soup splashed the walls as one of the bowls shattered. He wrapped his right hand around my neck, lifting me from the ground and squeezing. Blood pooled in my head, and I could no longer breathe.
“Don’t touch me,” he shouted while staring at nothing before tossing me aside like a doll. “Don’t hurt him!”
I writhed on the floor, rubbing my neck and gasping. It was pointless. I wasn’t strong enough to restrain him, and he was too far gone to soothe with words. He would definitely kill me if I tried that again.
The werewolf paced the room, howling, his eyes distant and glowing bright orange. The more I tried to think about what Roscoe would do, the less feasible it was.
Then I had an idea.
The longer fur-like hair on the back of my neck stuck straight up, and I stomped one foot, catching his gaze.
“Get a hold of yourself, soldier!” I barked, the tone of my voice harsh and unnaturally low. It was then the room began to turn silver.
Austin froze, his eyes widening as their color faded from orange to light blue.
“Attention!”
It was as though his body was on autopilot as he gave a salute, standing up straight and puffing out his chest.
“Yes sir!”
With my hands behind my back, I strode with as much confidence as I could muster, not breaking eye contact as he awaited with a doll-like emptiness. Inside I was trembling, my heart racing.
“At ease.”
The blue in his eyes faded, and his breathing slowed. He stumbled forward as if whatever demons were gripping his mind let go.
“Austin?”
“I’m gonna lay down,” he said, his gait meticulous as he crept through the living room toward the hallway. He looked back at me, his now watery eyes silently pleading, but not before his usual scowl returned. He disappeared through the door, closing it gently behind him.
If I read this wrong, I risked knocking down a delicate house of cards, but I also couldn’t leave him alone after that. The safest thing was to at least check on him without being pushy.
I tiptoed toward his bedroom door, turned the knob, and peeked inside. He was lying on his back with both hands folded behind his head.
“Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond, so I slipped into the room, keeping my eyes peeled for any change in his body language.
If he showed even the slightest anger or discomfort, I’d take that as my cue to leave.
However, he remained emotionless, except for the tip of his tail slightly patting the mattress between his legs.
I scooted next to him, cautiously put both feet up on the mattress, then leaned back against the headboard.
“You ever wonder why we exist?” Austin asked without looking at me.
The question was so unexpected it took me a moment to respond.
“Sometimes, especially when things get bad.”
“I should’ve never been born,” he said, his tone turning to more of a whisper.
“We don’t really get a choice in that,” I replied.
“Think of existence as… a giant fission reactor, but instead of atoms colliding, it’s how we interact with other people that creates the chain reaction.
Every meeting changes the course of a person’s life, and then they change the lives of others.
It could be for the best or for the worst, but in the end, we all end up where we need to be with the people we’re meant to be with. ”
Austin glared at me. “A fission reactor?”
“I suck at metaphors, okay. Did it at least make sense?”
The anger that held him hostage began to lift, and he let out a laugh that shook the bed.
“You’re a fuckin’ nerd.”
I got flashbacks to that night with Roscoe.
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.”
Austin’s laughter faded to a light chuckle, and he shoved me with his elbow. “Uh oh, I think you might go supercritical now.”
“You’re an ass,” I said, but paused. “You’re obviously smarter than you let people think. Why in the hell do you hide it?”
“It’s easier to be stupid.”
“Well, yeah, to a certain extent,” I said, choosing my next words carefully. “I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in here right now.”
“Why?” he asked, more serious this time. “What do you get out of it? Does playing shrink make you feel better about yourself?”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it? I’ve gone out of my way to treat you like shit, but you’re like a gnat that I can’t get out of my face.” He turned toward me again. “Now that’s a metaphor.”
“It’s actually a simile.”
Austin growled. “You can’t even make a fucking sandwich. Pathetic.”
“Maybe I did that on purpose, so you’d make me the sandwich.”
We both went quiet, save for the steady breeze whistling into the room through the window screen.