"So," George breaks the silence. "We're going to be here awhile."

"So it seems," I confirm. The rain and/or sleet pounding on every window of the house proves my point.

Jacob leans his head back on his hands and laughs, "With absolutely zero parent supervision."

"Yeah, who's gonna cook?" I tap my chin with my fingertips.

"Hah, real funny," Jacob says, eyes closed. "We've got mini corndogs in the freezer."

"I can't really cook," George says. "Unless you want... Mini corndogs. I can make those."

"That's awesome," I tell him. "Yeah, don't really want to have mini corndogs for every meal."

Of course, Jacob and I did go through that phase once. We ate corndogs and pizza rolls all the time when mom was gone. It was literally the only food we ate for about two months straight. Super unhealthy, yeah. I think he was purposely trying to fatten me up. Something he would do.

Ray clears his throat. "Should we watch a movie or something? Or even go to bed, it's kind of late."

"Lets watch a movie!" I holler, standing up immediately and running to the shelf of disks. Disney, action, horror, mystery, romance, chick flicks, or comedy. I am about to pull out Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (such an awesome movie), But a hand is reaching over my shoulder and pulls a movie out before I have a chance to, and I see Jacob slide the disk into the DVD player.

I pick up the container and look at the cover. Scrunch my nose. This is most definitely not Harry Potter. Laaaame.

"Inception?" I raise my eyebrows at Jacob.

"Inception," he nods.

With no further explanation coming, I just walk over to the couch and sit next to Ray. I see the corner if his lips turn up, and he turns his head away slightly, to where George is.

As the movie goes on, I get more and more confused at what's happening. Is this real life? Is that a dream's dream? Somebody please explain the meaning of this life to me.

Somewhere in the middle, Ray pulls me closer to him and I don't pass up the opportunity to rest my head on his shoulder. His warmth envelopes me.

Since this movie is confusing as heck, I just let my eyes close and fall asleep.

***********************************

"I'll take her up, it's okay. I've got it." A whisper.

"You sure?" Another.

"Yeah."

I'm lifted. My subconscious self leans my head closer to the person, and I smell detergent and soap. That can only be one person. I'm just too tired to linger on the thought.

I'm swaying with every step the person holding me takes. I'm rocking, rocking me deeper into sleep.

I'm set down on my bed and covers are placed over me, immediately warming me. And a kiss is placed on my forehead.

"Goodnight Jordan," the voice says. The voice that is Ray's.

***********************************

The delicious smell of cinnamon fills me and I shoot out of bed. Cinnamon rolls? Mom made cinnamon rolls? She never does anymore! My favorite!

I throw my legs out of bed and stand so quickly that my vision starts to black. I have to grab the wall to steady myself.

As soon as my vision is recovered, I hurry down the hallway, slipping in my fuzzy socks. I attempt to turn the corner. Attempt.

My face becomes quite friendly with the stairs.

"Ouch," I mutter as I hit the bottom.

Laughter fills my ears. "Did you seriously just fall down the stairs?" That would be Jacob.

I rub my nose and cheek and pretty much my whole face. And groan. I'm an idiot.

A hand takes my own and helps me up. That would be Ray. I smile at him in thanks and head for the table. That's when I remember that mom's not here. Which also means mom didn't cook the cinnamon rolls on the plate in front of me. I rule out Jacob immediately, who cooks the average brick. I also rule out George who only knows how to make a PB&J sandwich. Also, he looks half awake right now. I look at Ray. He smiles proudly.

"You made these?" I ask.

"Sure did," he answers.

I look at my food. Look at him. Look at my food. Look at him.

Take a bite of my food.

Correction, take a bite of heaven.

"Whoa," I say, mouth full of food.

And I continue to scarf down three entire rolls. I'm going to be fat if Ray continues to cook stuff like this. Or die.

"Do you just bust out random talents all the time?" I ask in disbelief. Who knew he was seriously this amazing at cooking?

"Oh yeah," Ray says, leaning back in his chair. "I can also hula dance, sing opera, and imitate presidential speeches."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Oh really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Fair enough." I nod, grinning back at him.

"Whoa, did Jordan just smile?" Jacob brings a hand over his mouth in mock surprise. "And it's not even nine in the morning yet." He lets out a low whistle and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, you really aren't a morning person, Jordan. What's up with you?" George asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Jacob laughs. "Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." His gaze flickers to Ray and he wiggles his eyebrows. My face is flaming and I hit Jacob's arm as hard as I can.

"Ouch!" Jacob screeches. "Wow, that actually hurt..." He rubs his arm. I smile in delight.

"Don't act so surprised," I tell him.

I, surprisingly, can be very violent. If you get onto my bad side, I am not afraid to slap and/or kick you. With pleasure.

"So, since we are all stuck here, I would much rather do something than sit here bored all day long," George says.

"I know, I know!" I exclaim. The one thing that keeps me from dying of boredom.

Everyone's gaze falls on me. I smirk. "Lets play Mario Kart."

**********************************

"Ah, really?" Jacob exclaims as my character, King Boo of course, shoves Luigi off a cliff. I let out a laugh as I shoot a green shell backwards that hits Ray's guy, Mario, also forcing him off the cliff.

"Now I see why you wanted to play this," Ray says with a sigh. "I forgot how good you are at this game."

I scoff in indignation. "Good? Good? I'm freaking awesome!"

As I cross the finish line in first, again, I stand up and do my signature happy dance. The three boys all groan and I laugh happily. I am the master of this game!

"Hey, it's my turn to pick a track," George says, violently pressing the 'A' button.

Rainbow Road. Piece of cake. A piece of colorful, evil, deadly, cotton candy cake.

Sitting up straighter, holding the controller tighter, I begin the race. Faster faster faster faster yessss.

Shove, shell, oh look a banana. Sharp turn. First place. Mario is behind me. I have a green shell. I shoot it backwards and successfully hit the character. Burn.

I have quite a lead now, and I am on the last lap. That's it that's it that's it, the finish line. And there's a blue shell coming at me. No no no no no.

"NO."

Ray laughs. "Yes." Curse that beautiful laugh of his.

But I still make it across the finish line in first. In your face. All of you. I do a mental happy dance, since I don't want to stand up again.

"Really? I am so done playing this game with you. It's hurting my pride," Jacob says.

"I hope so," I tell him. "You already have enough for the lot of us."

"I vote we play a different game," George says, throwing his controller angrily onto the ground. It lands with a thud.

"Agreed," Ray nods.

"NCAA Football 2013," Jacob grabs a game off the shelf and place the game in the slot.

"Hey, you know I don't understand sports!" I exclaim, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Exactly, you're not playing," Jacob looks back at me and winks. I scowl at him.

"You guys are jerks."

*********************************

A few minutes into watching the boys play their stupid football game, I get incredibly bored and decide to put myself to good use. I shall make lunch.

Now, note the fact that I am a horrible failure at cooking, baking, and anything of the sort.

I head down to the kitchen, quite pleased with my idea. I can do this, I am skilled, I've got the power. Mario Kart really ups my confidence.

I look through the pantry in search of some sort of meal to make, humming to myself. Canned veggies, canned fruit, canned beans, canned dehydrated apple slices, canned instant pudding. Canned cans.

"Ah, Kraft Mac 'N Cheese." I take out the box and search for the instructions that are supposedly on the box.

"Six cups of water," I mumble to myself. I pull out a huge pan and dump the water into there, turning on the stove. Boil, boil, boil. Water wants to boil.

Dump the dry noodles into the happily boiling water. Stir, stir. Stir.

My phone dings. I turn slowly and stare at it for a moment. Is my cake done baking in my virtual bakery? Or is my virtual character finished partying? I press the home button.

Alas, my virtual bakery's red velvet cake is finished baking. I wish I could whip up something like that, outside my phone.

Look at all the customers, ah. They want some food. You want food? I think so. Cake? Of course. It's your favorite? Oh, how flattering.

What's that smell?

My head whips towards the stove where I seem to have forgotten completely about the food I was making. The water is boiling over the stove, the noodles, falling over with it. For a few moments I just stare at the mess in awe. It's like a fountain of death, for the noodles.

I snap to my senses and hurry towards the pan. The steaming water is dripping onto the floor, and it burns my toes. I squeal and jump backwards, effectively falling onto my butt on the tile. Crap-ola.

The food and water shall not win this battle.

I tear open a drawer and pull out those little oven mittens your grandma loves to wear when she gives you cookies (Notice I said your grandma. Mine doesn't like cookies). I shove my feet into them and prepare myself for battle. And cough on the hot steam flying at my face.

Step. Aha, who's winning now?

Step. You thought you could beat me?

Step. Any last words?

Beep beep beep beep beep

That would be the fire alarm. Ay, so pulling dirty tricks are we now?

I yank open another drawer and pull out the poncho that my dad keeps in there. I throw it over my head. Protection from the heat.

Beep beep beep beep beep

"What on earth are you doing?"

I turn my attention towards the voice. The three boys are now standing at the doorway looking horrified. I stare back, wide eyed only being able to imagine how retarded I must look right now.

Jacob rushes forward and climbs onto a chair. Presses a few button on the fire alarm. The wailing stops. George takes charge if the stove, turning it off. Ray takes a few beach towels from one of the cupboards and throws it into he hot water on the floor. Pulls the pan off the stove and dumps the contents into the sink. And I stand here, like a dead fish. Only a dead fish that's still breathing above water, standing up on my legs.

Way to take control of the situation, Jordan.

Once Ray, Jacob, and George are finished cleaning up my mess, they turn to me. Asking the questions with their eyes.

"I was trying to cook."