Page 26 of Give Me Peace

My name is spoken clear as day, the person’s tone comically deeper this time. I blink through the sunlight streaming through my window, struggling to sit up as I wipe the drool from my mouth. It was close to four in the morning when I finally climbed back into bed after my impromptu snack and talk with Krew. It didn’t take long for me to crash, and it’s obvious I slept like the dead.

“Um…just a sec,” I force out, my voice raspy and dry.

I peel the covers off and slowly slip from the bed. It’s higher off the ground than the one I had at Mom’s, and with my body still so sore it makes getting in and out of it a little more difficult. I grab a bra from the closet, not wanting to makes things awkward for me or the guys. It takes me two seconds to realize there’s no way I’m going to get this thing on by myself, and even if I could the tightness of the band would kill my ribs. I worry my lip, looking over the two rows of clothes for something extra baggy, but nothing catches my eye.

“Best Friend,” Kash whines, because who else could it possibly be, sounding as if his face is smooshed against the jam of the door. I move to open it but keep myself concealed as much as possible.

“Hi,” I greet softly, causing the man to stumble forward.

“Oh, goody, you’re awake.” Kash jokes, as if he isn’t the sole reason I am. I roll my eyes playfully, an act that feels foreign but good at the same time. “I made breakfast.”

“Okay.” I nod, happy to join him, because it’s clear Krew was right about his brother’s need for company. “Can I ask you a favor, though?”

“’Course you can, Sugar Plum.” He steps back, his face open and earnest.

“Do you have a sweatshirt I can wear? I don’t want to make things weird for anyone, but I can’t wear a bra right now.” I think I’m as shocked as Kash is that I managed to articulate my problem so bluntly, but he makes it easy to open up and say what I’m feeling. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s the one who went and bought it all, so if I’ve got to bring this up with someone it might as well be the guy who picked said garments out.

“You got it. Be right back,” he calls as he walks away. In less than a minute, he returns, handing me a grey sweatshirt.

I politely excuse myself, leaving Kash to wait in the hall, then head to the bathroom. I take care of business, wash my hands and brush my teeth, then toss on the sweater. I snort when I see my reflection. It’s practically a dress on me. You can’t even tell I’m wearing shorts beneath it. The image on the front of it makes me smile, though. Pooh, the honey-loving bear, is dressed in fatigues, a rifle slung over his shoulder, with Winnie the Pew written in the signature character font. From what little I know of him, I’m not surprised in the least this is something Kash would own.

I grab some socks, the fuzziest pair I can find, and open the door. Kash is casually leaning against the opposite wall, beside Havok’s door, not nearly as restless as he was when he’d been whisper-yelling my name just a bit ago. He smiles, big and uninhibited, as he looks me over. I’m sure I resemble a child playing dress up, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Thank you.” I motion toward his sweatshirt, giving him a grateful smile.

“No worries. You can raid my closet anytime, Best Friend.” He winks playfully and pushes away from the wall. “Come on. Let’s go eat before those other assholes wake up and pounce like vultures.” Kash extends his hand, and even though it confuses me, I take it.

We’re going to the kitchen, so it’s not like I could get lost on the way and require an escort. But it feels nice to touch another human being. His skin is soft and warm, and there’s no harshness to the way he’s holding me. He steers me to a barstool and helps me up, my toes barely grazing the footrest once I’m seated. I think everything in this house is built for giants.

Kash buzzes around like a ball of energy, pulling food from the oven, where he must have left it to warm, and orange juice from the fridge. He takes a plate from the stack he’s already laid out and begins to fill it. There’s a slice of bacon, eggs, toast, and half a pancake placed in front of me by a happy Kash, grinning proudly for a job well done. I smile, or try to, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of food and the expectation I feel to eat it all so he isn’t disappointed.

“Morning,” Havok grumbles, sauntering into the kitchen with a slight scowl on his face. “Just to be clear, you suck at whispering.” He shoulders past Kash, going straight for the coffee maker.

“Well, I can’t be good at everything, that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the world,” Kash retorts, hiding his smirk around a mouthful of over-syruped pancake. He looks at my untouched food, then back at me, so I take a bite of the toast.

“Good?” Kash asks, arching an eyebrow curiously. I nod and take a sip of the OJ he poured me. Havok hits the button to brew his coffee and then tilts his head, watching me so intensely it makes me squirm. The only attention I’ve ever received from him has been swiftly followed by a cutting remark, leading to my inevitable humiliation, so it’s logical to assume that’s where this is headed.

“No, she does not find it good,” Havok states calmly, taking a sip of his hot bean water. Completely black, I might add. He must like it to match the color of his cold, dead heart. I feel guilty the second I let the thought form, knowing I’m not the kind of person to judge so callously, nor do I want to be. Especially when a part of me has always felt there was something more to the brooding boy who insisted on bullying me every chance he could.

“What?” Kash looks at him in confusion.

“Saylor likes her bacon crunchy, almost to the point of being burnt. And she doesn’t eat eggs.” I gape at Havok’s reply, wondering how the hell he knows those things. “She won’t tell you that herself because she’s a people pleaser and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.” I can feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment as Kash swings his head back around to focus on me.

“Is that true?” he asks, but there’s no hint of anger, just genuine curiosity.

“I...I’m sorry,” I stumble over my words. “I didn’t want to make it a thing after you were nice enough to cook.” I could throttle Havok. In my mind, I’ve kicked him no less than ten times. From the corner of my eye, I see him smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking and finds it amusing.

“Saylor,” Kash says my name softly, moving to stand beside me. He spins the barstool so I’m facing him and takes my hand in his. “If there’s something you don’t like, we want to know. This is your house, too. I swear, nothing you say or do could ever make me upset. I’d feel worse knowing you ate something just to appease me than if you threw it in my face and said it tasted like Kade’s dirty socks.” His eyes shine with humor at my scrunched nose. I could’ve done without the example, but I feel the tension begin to dissipate.

“I’ll try to speak up next time,” I offer, but history would prove me a liar. Making unnecessary waves is not my forte.

“Good.” Kash boops me on the nose, just like he did at the beach yesterday, and takes my plate. I watch as he scoops up my bacon and places it back in a skillet. He cooks it until it’s perfectly crunchy, just the way I like, and then scrapes my eggs onto Havok’s plate. When he brings my food back to me, I’m fighting the urge to cry. I didn’t have to ask him to do any of it, he just did. Because he wanted to. I give Kash a watery smile, hoping he knows how much his kindness means to me.

“Oooh!” Kash’s fork clanks as he drops it, breaking the silence we’d formed while eating. “I have an idea.” He opens a drawer, digging around for a second before he pulls out a small notepad and pen.

“Let’s make a list.” I watch as he scrawls my name at the top, then adds ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’ beneath it. “Crunchy bacon goes here,” Kash declares, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration as he writes. “And eggs over here.” They’re placed in their respective columns, and then the paper is tucked beneath a magnet on the fridge. I blink at it, a mixture of emotions bubbling to the surface.

“We’ll leave this here, so if there’s something you want us to know, or we should know, and you don’t feel comfortable outright saying it, you can just add it to the list.” Kash goes back to eating, completely unaware of how sweet and thoughtful his gesture is. It takes me a little longer to sort myself out, but I finally shake my head and focus on my plate.