We shall see
I blink rapidly down at my phone.
We shall see?
What the heck is that supposed to mean?
My heart thunders in my chest as I reread those three words over and over again, regretting my decision in engaging with him more and more with each passing second.
Oh, God. What did I do?
I just danced with the devil, that’s what.
And now, he knows he has me right where he wants me.
Sleep doesn’t come at all.I spend the entire night staring at the ceiling, the walls, and mostly, my phone where it lies charging on my nightstand, like the offending object it is.
I suppose I could get my number changed, but then, on the off chance something happened with Mother or Father, theywouldn’t have my new number, and I need them to be able to get ahold of me. Not that they would after what I did, but if…
So, basically, I’m stuck.
I groan loudly and drag my hands down my face. Exhaustion is pulling heavily at me, but I still force myself to sit up. Sunlight is just beginning to peak through the gaps in the curtains, and I avoid the rays because of my throbbing temples as I grab a change of clothes and head to the shower.
Thankfully, no one else is up this early, so I’m able to scrub some of my sleepiness away, and by the time I’m out, I don’t feel one hundred percent better, but I do feel more awake than before, so I’ll take it.
“You look even worse than last night, and that’s saying something,” Kane says when I walk into the kitchen. I startle at the sound of his voice, a squeak-sort of noise escaping my throat. My hand flies to my chest where it leaps from my sternum, and in turn, Kane just chuckles.
“My bad. Forgot you startle easily.”
“Forgot after just last night… or literally any moment since you’ve known me?” I deadpan, too tired.
“Apparently,” he muses, flipping a pancake on the stove. “Want some?” he asks, gesturing to the pile he adds another flapjack to.
“Sure, thanks.” I grab a dish and some food and take a seat. After soaking my pancake in syrup, I look up to find Kane already staring at me.
“Yes?” I ask with a mouth full of food, which I recognize is incredibly rude, but I also can’t be bothered to care too much when I’m this hungry. I can’t remember the last time I ate, and for the first time in quite a while, I actuallyfeelhungry.
“Nothing. Just glad you’re eating.”
I hum noncommittedly.
“Good, yeah?” he asks once he sits down with his own plate and I’m onto my second.
“Mhm,” I hum, taking another bite.
“Thanks.” Kane grins. “It’s my dad’s recipe. Even the syrup.”
“Wait.” I pause between bites. “This is homemade, too?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles.
“No wonder it’s so good.” My eyes nearly roll back as the sweetness assaults my senses. I was never allowed to have this much sugar, so I’m probably gonna be on a sugar high for the rest of the day, but it’ll so be worth it because this stuff is incredible.
“I’m glad you like it, man.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, face heating.
“‘Course.” Kane smiles just as the others start piling into the kitchen.
