I’m cracking. Every day, some of my hard exterior breaks away, allowing a little bit of happiness to leak in. I know it’s all of them, but it’s mostly her.
I feel this need to protect her, to take care of her. And it often comes out as griping about what she eats and drinks. Which is how I end up in the kitchen with Lil on Friday morning, talking about it.
“She’s going to end up with kidney stones or something, she never drinks fucking water.”
“It’s just part of how she is. When she actually realizes she’s thirsty, she never picks water. She hates the stuff.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I grumble. The death of me. That’s what this girl is. The absolute fucking death of me.
“It’s really not that uncommon for neurodivergents to not drink water, Luca. Sometimes, I wonder if there’s more to it than that when it comes to Ariana, but either way, she’s not a fan.” Lil shrugs and eats a bite of oatmeal. I don’t want to admit that I don’t know what that word means and make a mental note to look it uplater. She swallows her food and says, “We do what we can to keep her fed, watered, and happy.”
“She’s not a fucking cat.”
Ariana bounds into the kitchen with the energy of an overexcited puppy. “Who’s not a fucking cat?”
Lil chuckles. “You, apparently.”
Ariana makes that cute little half-snort, half-giggle noise. “Oh, I’m absolutely a fucking cat. I’m also part houseplant. Make sure I get some sunlight every now and then.” She starts searching the fridge for something.
I reach around her and snag a bottle of water. “You’re looking for this.”
She crinkles her nose and brow at it, then at me. “I’m really not.”
“Caramel creamer’s on the counter,” Lil offers.
“Oh, thank god.” Ariana throws her hands up in the air on her way to grab the bottle. I glare at them.
I’m glad there’s only two more weeks of this school shit because standing in the hallway is boring as hell, even though it gave me a chance to research neurodivergence and start reading a book today. I also spent a good portion of the day imagining Ariana in the leggings she wore to dance class last night. She did a lot of bending and stretching, and I was sporting a chubs the whole damn time.
Every morning, I get up before the girls and hit the gym. I usually go back after we get home from Lil’s classes and spar with some of the guys.
Ariana and Lil are free to come and go as they please, butthey’re supposed to let me know if they make plans, and not with a fucking note stuck to my bedroom door. There’s always the possibility they could decide to do something at the last minute, though. So far, they seem more likely to hang out around the house than go anywhere, at least during the week.
“That’s ten more days of class. Twenty-six hours, not including time we spend in the cafeteria.” Lil says as they walk out of the last class of the day.
Ariana makes a sour face. “Ugh. That’s math. I hate math.”
“Come on, you likesomemath.”
“No, I like trajectory, not numbers and equations, and I refuse to accept it as being related to math.”
A snort escapes me before I can even try to hold it in. Ariana grins, and Lil eyeballs me hard.
“Did you just laugh? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before. Well, at least not since we were kids.”
I don’t respond, and Lil frowns at me.
Once we’re outside, Lil turns to Ariana and says, “You should let me drive home.” When she gets nothing but a glare in return, she pouts, throwing her bottom lip out. “I’m just as good a driver as you are, Ariana.”
Ariana puts a hand to her chest and looks horrified. “I’ve never been so offended by anything in my whole life, Lilith.”
I snort again and cover it up with a cough. Lil stops in her tracks, grabbing my arm. “What the fuck, Luca? Are we in a sci-fi movie, and you’ve been replaced by an alien who missed the memo that Luca DeVille doesn’t smile or laugh or generally have a good time?”
I shrug her off and then shrug in general.
“I don’t know, Lil. Shit just doesn’t suck as much here as it did back home, I guess.” I start walking again. I don’t want Ariana to get too far away from us. When we catch up, Ariana’s basicallytalking to herself, explaining how Lil is, in fact,notas good a driver as she is.
When we get to the car, Lil gives me a look that says she’s trying to figure me out.
