Bonding

(Rorim's POV)

We just finished our last classes when we gathered at the school gate for the agreed meeting.

"So.." Sam started as we walked on the sidewalk, Sam and I ahead of the walk and the guys behind us. "we're going to my house."

"Wow. Not even a context or permission." Gillian commented and I smirked.

"I didn't know how to approach this okay? I mean we agreed to meet and do something for the activity and what better way to do them than be in one space together." She has a point.

"And you just offered your house to be your space?"

"Won't your parents be there?"

"Are you sure it's okay?"

Sam waved the bombards of questions in the air and stopped. "One by one please, people! I live alone in my small apartment. No one's going to bother us there, not my parents, not the neighbors - not that I care. Only my cats. No one's allergic to cats here right?"

Gillian shook his head. "I'm only allergic to birds."

Sam stared at him incredulously. "That's not even the question." Rolling her eyes, she started walking again and I followed her.

"I was just saying. Besides, cats hunt birds." Gillian groaned from behind us that brought a smirk to our lips.

I hooked my arm to Sam's which she didn't mind (she even beamed at me). "When we get there, what's the plan?"

"I'm thinking that we can cook dinner and play some card games."

"Sounds like a party." We mirrored smiles and continued silently.

...….

"Oh no! No tortilla bread!" Sam whined, placing the can of corn to the next to the pack of beef.

We arrived in her apartment forty-five minutes ago and they immediately discussed what to eat. While Sam and Gillian did most of the deciding, I roamed the apartment with my eyes.

First thing I noticed was the smell of detergent, of freshly washed clothes and sun-dried sheets. Apart from the smell, the inside was spotless. Her space was fully-furnished, from her living room to her kitchen. The only thing it lacked was design and accent, which if you compare it to her cheeky and boisterous personality, would seem unusual.

mrooow

I followed the sound and found a cream colored cat peeking from the bathroom door just beside me. I slowly kneeled down to it to not scare it but it scampered away, into the bathroom.

"Rorim?" Gillian called.

I stood again and turned. "Yeah? Sorry, I saw Sam's cat."

Sam gave a nod, noticing that I'm next to the bathroom. "That's probably Caramel. She's always in the bathroom whenever I have visitors."

"What are we eating?" Gillian probably asked that question twice, his eyes begging for viable replies.

I spoke the first, easiest food to cook in my mind. "Onigiri?"

"We already mentioned that but Sam here said, 'I don't want to eat rice!'" His attempt of copying Sam's voice in need of rehearsal, as Sam smacked his arm and hissed 'I don't sound like that.'

I guess thirty minutes have passed and no one could think of anything to eat that's quick and easy to prepare.

"Take out?" Sam surrendered and I giggled.

"Well that says a lot about you, Sam. Note it down, Gillian." I teased, to which Sam pouted.

"What ingredients do you have?" Norman asked, raising the most sensible question.

Sam checked her fridge and rummaged through the contents. "I have cheese, beef, carrots, tomatoes, cabbage, chicken, eggs, salmon, yogurt, soy milk, sodas—"

"I suddenly want quesadillas." uttered Gillian and we all turned to him.

"That sounds good, actually."

"I think that's easy to prepare."

Sam stood up, her hand to her waist. "Okay, quesadillas it is. Though, beef or chicken?"

"Good question." pointed Gillian and Sam winked.

"Beef." Norman and I spoke in unison.

"Cool, I don't mind beef." Sam brought out the pack of beef.

"Do you have tortilla bread though?" Now everyone turned to me. Sam moved to the cabinets to check and after a while she found none.

"Even pita bread?" I asked and Sam shook her head.

"You all don't mind buying right? That probably won't take that long." Norman offered, petting the cat next to him. When did the cat even get there?

Gilbert nodded and moved next to Sam. "Then you and Rorim should buy. Sam and I can slice and prepare the sauce and filling."

I was about to move when Sam ran to me and hooked her arm on mine. "But I wanna stay with Rorim!"

"Gillian's not my paper partner. Wasn't this supposed to be for the activity?" asked Norman. Honestly, I would rather stay with Sam too.

Sam frowned and asked me with her eyes for reassurance. I wondered, if I went with Norman, I'd feel uncomfortably awkward. Unspeakably annoyed. Blatantly disinterested.

Keep your enemies closer.

I sighed in defeat. "Sorry Sam, but Norman's right. I'll sit next to you the whole night when we get back."

Sam grinned ear to ear and let go. "Go now then. There's a grocery store just across the street, they might have tortilla bread there, hopefully."

"We'll be back quick." I assured them and went ahead. Norman was still putting back his shoes; Gillian and he were the ones who left their shoes by the doorway.

He stood beside me when I clicked the down button for the elevator. We waited in silence until the elevator door opened and we walked in.

The whole trip going to the mart was silent. The only thing I could hear was the sound of our own footsteps, which should usually be satisfying for me to hear, except that I refused to relax nor express satisfaction next to this person. Last time I did, I found my father lying dead, in his own blood on the floor, with Norman standing before him, a knife in hand, vanishing, while I lay there paralyzed on the floor next to my drugged mother. That memory might have been lifetimes ago but one can never trust the same betrayal's face. Not even in another life.

"About the bracelet this morning.."

I took a deep breath and replied. "What about it?"

"I can fix it. I have extra locks in my place." He said and we stopped as we caught the red light.

Folding my arm, I analyzed this open spot. He definitely doesn't know my whole being, nor is he capable of recognizing, even in his dreams. What can he possibly be plotting? What his intent was, I needed to read.

When the traffic light turned green, I crossed ahead, ignoring his offer as I continued overthinking. My eyes caught the mart that Sam mentioned and I entered, no longer waiting for the poor guy. I quickly browsed the aisle labels and looked for the bread section. Whether I know where I was looking the bread at or not is not much of an issue than avoiding Norman.

"Found you." I grabbed the tortilla bag and drifted straight to the counter.

"Wait!" Norman called out and I glanced. He was from the condiments section.

"Hurry, they're waiting." I whined, toning down the annoyance, in case it exuded more than necessary.

Norman came back later afterwards, holding two bottles of sauce in his hands. "Don't you think Sam might have those at home?"

"Who said it was for her?"

I grabbed the bottles, included it with the bread and paid for it. He was about to hold out his wallet, perhaps to pay me, but I was already exiting the store.

"Here." He held out the cash but I ignored him and started crossing, racing to the blink of the green traffic light.

Norman took the plastic bag from my hand when we reached the other side.

I was expecting him to speak but he didn't. Walking next to him like that planted guilt inside me, and unconsciously, this time, I spoke.

"What are you thinking?" I bit my lips and hated myself. I hated that I'm feeling guilty for this guy and I hated even more that I had to appease him. I'm gonna end this guy's life for my own good and I'm being pushed over something this measly, nonexistent guilt. Not to mention asking what he thinks. What he thinks? I already don't like where this is leading.

"I'm hungry."

I scoffed, appalled. "That's all you're thinking right now?"

He nodded, looking ahead.

I can't believe that I just spared an ear for this man to only hear his hunger.

"Here, catch." And he did, his hands making the sound of a clap.

"Thanks." He unwrapped the chocolate and put it in his mouth.

"That has peanuts." He was allergic to them. Always been.

"I can taste it." He should be gasping for air anytime now. I can't believe killing him would be this easy. I hope no one's around. If he ever starts convulsing here and I don't call for help but someone catches me, I will be screwed for sure. Should I leave immediately then? There could be a witness still. What if a police interrogates me? What if there's a hidden camera somewhere? Maybe I can act to be all worried, then wait until he last breath passes and call for help. But I really need to make sure—

"Your finger's gonna bleed." His hand carefully grabbed mine. I didn't notice that I've been biting my nails for a while now. I didn't notice he's still alive too. How?

"How are you still ali- I mean how are you feeling?"

He checked my finger and wiped it with my shirt. "I'm still hungry."

"Aren't you allergic to peanuts?" This question made his head tilt, bewildered.

"Not that I remembered, no. I'm perfectly fine." He checked his hands, as if looking for rashes.

So he's not allergic to peanuts in this lifetime? How does that work? That's impossible. What else is he not allergic to? What else do I not know about him? Do I have to unlearn everything, from his weaknesses to his darkest secrets, from now on? Great. Just perfect.

Seeing him walk ahead of me now, I wanted to push him to the ground, catch him off ground and bang his head to the floor over and over again until it's concussed. But I can't do that with my height, can I? I'm technically out of practice (with all the killing arts I learned from my past lives) that I simply cannot test it on a person twice my frame and fail majestically. No, I cannot afford to do that. That just makes it even more perfect.

I chased to his pace and gave him my brightest smile, an idea striking me. "I decided that I'll give you the bracelet later."

He nodded and kept quiet.

"I also decided to be your friend. Take care of me from now on!" I laughed as I sped ahead to the apartment building, leaving him behind. Whether he took that seriously or not was up to him.

———————————-

We had two problems: one being that Ms. Hipher didn't have authority for the chickens so she couldn't permit us to join the Raven eggs with the chicken's. And two, because Raven eggs are a bit half the size of chicken eggs, they need to be at a lower temperature than chicken eggs' for incubation. I learned all this after Norman woke me up for dinner.

Gale returned while I was asleep and told Norman instead. Norman told me that she couldn't tell me herself because she had to do some chores in the second house. We hid the newly covered box under my bed, both agreeing that my bed would be safer than his, considering that his friends come to his bed to hang when he's away.

"Can't you shoo them away?" I asked in a low and munched on the carrots and potatoes from my soup bowl.

He shook his head as he chewed. "They don't listen to me." And I somehow understood. Even if he tried to be stern, his face could only be as soft as the bunny's coat, as gentle as the morning breeze. Norman has this welcoming, friendly face that could tame the meanest kid in our house. I have seen Queenie hit and act rudely to kids who cross her way but she never touched Norman. I might have caught her bat an eye at him once or twice when he passed before her. But who really knew if it was a bat or a glare, I could only care less.

I sighed then, appetite lost when I thought about the eggs. "How can we incubate the eggs now?"

Norman finished his bowl and took my bowl, finishing it.

"Finish your food so you can bathe after." Ms. Hipher reminded from the door, holding her apron.

"We can't let the eggs stay here any longer." I murmured aloud, still thinking of solutions.

"How about", swallowing the last spoonful and spoke again, "we just place the eggs next to the chicken? Maybe that can work?"

"Maybe but what if the hen moves and disturbs the eggs? That's dangerous." I sighed again.

"We can make an incubator ourselves."

"How?"

"We can ask Ms. Hipher." Norman stood up and took the bowls to the kitchen. I followed him and we both went to Ms. Hipher's office.

knock knock knock

"Yes?" Ms. Hipher opened her door.

"Excuse us, Ms. Hipher. Can we ask you something?" Norman spoke.

She ogled at us for a while and opened the door for us. We entered and she closed it behind us. "What questions do you have for me?"

I stepped forward. "Our first question is, do you know what an incubator looks like?"

"Yes and I don't think I can let you have that." Norman and I exchanged looks and I tried again.

"Next question would be, if we ever learn how to make an incubator, can we freely ask for the materials we need from you?"

"As long as it's available and doesn't involve buying, you're free to ask permission from me and I'll deliberate." Her answers were as straight and pointed as the end of her braid.

Norman stepped forward this time. "Last question, when we hatch the eggs, can we ask you to still provide us with the things we need?" He didn't say if. He said when. He believed that we could make them hatch.

This took a while for Ms. Hipher to answer that we began to worry.

After a sigh, she said, "Fine."

We mirrored our grins and thanked Ms. Hipher in unison.

"Would that be all?" We nodded to her and waited by the door. She opened it again for us and told us to take our baths. We dashed along the corridors and took our clothes and towel.

"Now all we have to know is how to make an incubator." I spoke out bought of our thoughts and we separated ways, each heading different bathrooms for our baths.