Chapter Twenty One

When Dante walked out of his bedroom and softly shut the door behind him, he saw Freddie already up and at the frying pan, trying to get the gas stove to spark alive. Finally, he gave up and pulled out a small, dusty matchbox from his toolbox and used one of the matches to carefully light the stove. The stove erupted into a satisfying contained fire with blue tails. He cracked a small white egg over the pan and began cooking the egg. Dante noticed Freddie was in the same clothes from last night, with the addition of Dante's mother's frilly red "Kiss the Chef" apron.

Freddie heard Dante lean against the kitchen counter. "How'd you sleep honey boo?" Freddie asked, mocking Mrs. Garcia's use of the pet name for Dante that she'd had to be trained to never use in public after a very humiliating incident at the mall.

Dante disregarding Freddie's question. "Did you sleep here?" Dante asked as he grabbed a small orange from the little brown fruit basket Dante's mother kept in the kitchen to inspire momentary bursts of healthy cravings from her two sons and her overweight husband.

"Yeah, because of the storm, and because I thought maybe you would need something in the middle of the night. Which reminds me, where's Naya?"

As if on cue, the sound of the shower head turning on and low pressure water droplets splashing against the enamel steel bathtub echoed through the house. Dante gestured to the closed bathroom door as he drummed his fingers on the cool kitchen counter. Freddie went back to scrambling his eggs and popped two pieces of white bread into a dull silver toaster.

In the quiet morning light, Dante could finally see the dark bags under his friend's eyes. He must not have slept, Dante thought.

Freddie grabbed one of Mrs. Garcia's stained china plates and put a portion of the eggs on it with the two pieces of toast that had popped out moments ago, and slid it to Dante. Dante took the plate from Freddie, internally drooling over the smell.

Freddie leaned his elbows against the cool counter as Dante took a bite from the warm toast, his voice becoming grave, "Hey Dante, you should probably know that I was trying to-"

He was interrupted by a sharp knock at the front door. Dante took another mouthful of toast, raised his finger to pause Freddie, and went to open the door.

As he opened a door, a burst of cool breeze rushed through, contrasting from the threatening winds from the night before. The only indications of the violent storm was the slightly darker, damp, asphalt road and the dew dripped grass in the front yard.

At the door was Alex and Gloria. Alex's shoulder length, wispy hair was pulled into an unfamiliar, short ponytail, most likely a gift from Gloria, while Gloria's curls were put up in a loose pineapple bun that sat on top of her head, as if it was a crown placed upon a queen's head. They were dressed in the same clothes from last night, except that Gloria was now wearing Alex's dark red hoodie, which went down to her knees. She pushed past Dante and went into his room, clearly looking for Naya.

"She's in the shower right now," Dante said through a yawn.

Gloria looked panicked, "Well did you check for things she might use? Blades? Towels? Bleach cleaner? Maybe that exfoliating sponge thingy?" Dante's stomach dropped with every item.

The list could have gone on, except she heard a door creak open behind her.

"I'm fine," Naya said, calmly emerging from the bathroom, a soft cloud of steam following her out. She was wearing another one of Dante's fit t-shirts that was oversized on her, and a pair of his mother's mint green summer shorts. She patted her damp hair with the soft blue towel Dante had given her.

Naya's words weren't laced with anger like Gloria had expected, but rather with contempt. She understood the mistrust. In some ways, she was happy that they had caught her when she'd fallen. But for now, they rightly didn't trust her, and she'd have to learn to be okay with that.

As the rest of the group watched her as if she was a wounded leopardess, Naya caught a whiff of the smell of bacon sizzling on the pan.

"Is there bacon?" She asked, her mouth salivating at the idea.

"Yup," Freddie said with a proud smile. In the few seconds Dante had stepped away, Freddie had raided their fridge and was frying bacon on a separate pan.

"Grab a plate," Freddie instructed Naya and nodded her closer to him. Dante helped Naya find the plates and stood closely behind her as she raised her plate to Freddie as if he was the cafeteria lady at her school. Dante and Naya took their plates and sat across from Gloria and Alex, who were resting their heads on each other.

"Hey Freddie, could you make us some too?" Gloria asked, as she rubbed her eyes. "I could barely sleep in that motel room."

Dante was mid-bite when he paused to process the information, "Wait, motel?"

Gloria and Alex's ears simultaneously perked up, realizing how it sounded. "No, we didn't mean like that! There was just a... situation," Gloria hesitated and looked at Alex, wondering if she was allowed to reveal what had happened the night before. She put on her familiar sly smile and asked, "Why, you jealous?" As soon as she said it, she regretted it. It was almost a force of habit, to bring men in just close enough to drop them. Except this time, she was the one who got dropped, and it felt just as bad as she'd thought it did.

Dante realized he really wasn't jealous, something he would have never believed three years ago, but he'd grown out of that high school puppy love. He was suspicious of her vague answer though, so he pressed, "Situation...?"

Alex continued scrolling through his phone as he answered, his head still on Gloria's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world, "We went to a motel because my mom was burning her wedding dress on the front lawn."