Chapter 25: Truth

***WARNING: MOOD SWINGS***

While last night he was playing Mario Kart for entertainment and excitement, it seems to be more calming for him today. Maybe a confidence boost, or maybe just the familiarity is nice, but by the time we finish, it's clear to me that this was different.

We cycle around the basement: he has a lot of stuff down here. There are a few other TV's: one is mounted on the wall near the pool table and foosball table, one near a bunch of workout equipment, one in this home theatre area which looks more like a theatre than something in a home, one by two armchairs with a small coffee table in between them...

We wander around, doing various things- shooting pool, playing shuffleboard, reading (he has a small but very well-stocked library. It's the best thing I've ever seen), et. cetera. There's also a pool (which is probably the second best thing I've ever seen- it's a small pool, but it's very cool-looking) but we don't swim. Which is fair, honestly, since then we'd have to shower to wash off the chlorine and that seems like more work than it's worth, right now.

We go up for lunch a little after noon. His parents aren't there (I wonder if they work, or if they consider it unnecessary?) so it's up to us to make lunch for ourselves.

"You like grilled cheese sandwiches?" he asks me as he looks in the fridge.

"Yeah." I grin at the fact that he's so rich and still eats things as simple as grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. He glances at me and smiles a little when he sees my grin.

"Good. Come."

I go over to him, and he gives me a block of cheese and a grater, so I start grating the cheese while he turns on the stove. Once I've finished with the cheese, I turn to ask him what to do next and find him frying bacon. I smile to myself, remembering his dad's story last night. He glances at me over his shoulder to see me watching him and smirks a little- the first time today that I've seen his usual smirk.

"Wanna butter the bread?"

"Sure."

"Bread's there, butter's there."

I go to the breadbasket and grab four pieces of bread, then get the butter dish and start buttering bread. A few minutes later, a plate with slices of bacon appears on the counter. He takes a buttered piece of bread and lays it in the same pan, puts a pile of grated cheese on it, puts some bacon on top of that, followed by another piece of buttered bread. He repeats this pattern with the rest of the ingredients, then moves back to the stovetop. I watch as he flips them with precision, getting both sides of both sandwiches to a perfect golden brown. My mouth is watering from the smell at this point- though, it is mostly bacon and butter.

After he takes the pan off the burner and turns off the stove, he produces two plates and slides one sandwich onto each, then cuts them each diagonally. He takes one and I take the other, then go around the counter to sit.

It's probably the best grilled cheese I've ever had.

The ratio of bread: cheese: bacon is perfect. The bread is crunchy but not burnt, the cheese is melty, and the bacon is crispy. It's incredible. I never thought a grilled cheese could be this good.

"Good?" he asks, after a few bites.

"So good. The best."

He studies me for a moment. "Really?"

I nod, holding his gaze. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

He's smiling a little, now. "My dad taught me."

"Your dad should teach a cooking class."

"I'll have to remember to get him to make you his steak sandwich. He makes the best garlic bread."

"I don't doubt it." I hold his gaze, and a moment later he looks down to take another bite of his grilled cheese, still smiling a little.

After lunch, we go back down to the basement. He scans the room pensively. "Want to watch a movie?"

"Sure. But... could I use your washroom first?"

He points to one of the few doors in the room, then goes towards the home theatre. I make my way over to it and once the door is closed and locked behind me, I sigh a little. I hate the idea of not getting to stay friends with him- every time I let myself be happy, I think about how temporary it is.

Stay in the moment, I remind myself.

I leave the bathroom and go to the home theatre area. The centre seats of the front row are adjoined to make a couch, and that's where he's sitting. He's hugging his knees to his chest loosely, resting his chin on his knees. His expression is hard to read, but he looks almost sad. It practically breaks my heart.

He looks up at me and straightens up a little, shuffling over a little to make room for me. I sit beside him, and after a minute he shifts towards me, and I feel his thumb drawing circles over the back of my hand.

"How are your hands?" he asks quietly, like earlier.

"Good. No pain."

He lets out a little sigh, though I can't tell the emotion, and carefully leans against me. I gently lean into him as well to let him know it's okay.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in a soft breath.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"If I hadn't asked you to come with me..."

"I agreed."

"I persuaded you. You didn't want to come."

"I'm glad I did, now."

"You shouldn't be. You're hurt because of it." He's still tracing little circles over the back of my hand.

"You're overestimating how bad it is."

"What about your parents?'

Right, yeah. Them. That'll be the worst part of it. "I'm sure..." I stop myself before I can say that it'll be fine, because Darla told me not to lie, since he'll know and have no tolerance for it. So I go for the slightly painful truth. "They probably won't notice. They'll see me, what, Monday night? It'll be mostly healed by then, so the bandages will be off. They'll be exhausted from work. They'll ask about school, homework, and studying. Maybe the project, if they remember. And then we'll eat dinner and I'll go up to my room to study until I go to bed."

He's silent for a moment. "That's awful."

I want to tell him that it's not, but I'm not entirely sure that's the truth. "It's... it gets me good grades. They just want me to have a future. They just want me to have a life." They work themselves to the bone to make enough money to pay the bills and support our family, so I can have a decent pre-adult life. I mean, we have a house and a car and food and running water and electricity and stuff, and we're not on government aid, but we're not doing fantastically. Money's still a concern.

"But are you happy?" he asks, still so quiet.

I swallow and don't answer that. Because I don't know what the answer is, and I don't particularly want to think about it.

He shifts, then reaches for a remote. "Have you ever seen Shrek?"

"No."

It's in the recently watched list. He selects it. It loads for a moment or two, then starts.

While it's going through the intro, he reaches behind the couch, pulling out a blanket. I help him unfold it, since we're both still sitting and clearly neither of us are going to stand up, even though it would probably be way easier. Finally, we get it settled over both of us (and by that I mean completely wound around us, with the edges tucked underneath our legs to keep the warmth in).

He shuffles a little closer to me, and I move my arm to make space. He hesitates, then shifts until we're pressed against each other, and wraps his arms around my waist. I pause, before deciding that I'm not against it (at all, actually) and put my arms around him as well. He snuggles up to me, and I inadvertently sigh a little.

"Is this okay?" he quietly asks, and I can feel his breath on my skin. I inhale and exhale before responding.

"Yeah."

"Good. Now watch."

I smile a little and focus on the movie, which has gotten through the intro by now and is actually starting.

It's harder to follow his instruction to watch the movie now that we're essentially cuddling. I have so many questions, I don't even know where to start. What does he think this is? What does he want it to be- what do I want it to be, and why? What does that mean? What does this mean? And why does my brain suddenly feel kind of fuzzy and unfocused?

SURPRISE!!! I'm uploading two extra chapters this week for Bell Let's Talk Day on January 28th (it's a mental health awareness campaign in Canada) as well as to celebrate over 5K reads on this story and my 650+ followers! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!

What did you think of the millionaire's moods? Their conversation about Todd's parents? Watching Shrek together and cuddling? Any predictions for the next chapters? Let me know!

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