“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 thanmy 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 theusefulstuff 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 usuallyinsomething. Notthesomething.”
“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?”
