"Are you going to get out the car or not?"

I groan in response, "I'm coming, give me a second."

"That's what she said," he hollers.

I scowl, and manage to open the door before Ethan came around to do it for me.

Chivalry is dead, women can open their own doors. I rest my case.

He scowls in response, muttering 'do what you want then,' before walking to his house and opening the door, and then entering.

Tumbling out the car, I frown. Did the boy forget to lock his house?

I give the door a weak push, and just about manage to close it. All of a sudden, I hear it lock shut and my eyes snap up to see Ethan's arm sticking out the doorway, keys in hand. The hand promptly disappears after that.

Do all boys behave like mothers with their new born babies, when it comes to their cars?

Probably. It's like he has super human hearing or something.

I slowly waddle my way into the house, slowly freezing from hypothermia in my barefoot, hospital gown clad self.

I don't like his spontaneity, it's irritating.

Mainly because I'm the one paying for it.

You must've looked so stupid being carried it a hospital in your damn patient gown.

Entering the house, and shutting the door behind me, I bask in the warmth of his house. Slowly but steadily, I begin walking into the foyer.

"Ethan, get your derrière over here!" a female voice that isn't mine calls from the kitchen.

"I'm coming," he brushes past me, head bowed, following the sound of the voice.

I watch him pass and smirk, "That's what he said?"

He just scowls in response, before leaving me standing there. Leaning against the wall, I watch his frame disappear into the kitchen and begin following suit.

However I'm stopped short as a middle aged looking woman rushes out the kitchen and smack bang into me. I stumble backwards, beginning to fall ungraciously, arms flailing and all. But thankfully her strong, calloused hands grab me in time.

She steadies me back onto my two feet, and I wince at the pressure on my cuts. She promptly removes her grip from my forearms. I rub them, and smile at her in sheer embarrassment, so much for first impressions.

She, on the other hand, returns the smile warmly, and kisses my cheeks in greeting, "My name is Maria, what is yours dear?"

I don't fail to notice the French tinge in her voice, before rasping out, "Ashley, nice to meet you."

Her mouth forms the shape of an 'O', and her eyebrows arc upwards. I cock my head at her, what's she so surprised about?

However I don't have enough time to finish my thoughts, as she shakes her head, and begins ranting, "This Ethan boy, terrible host. You look so sick, wait I get you warm clothes and blanket."

I'm then left standing there, watching her in confusion, while she scuttles away to get me those things.

I think I like her, I bet she's the woman who made this place homely.

Let's be honest here, if it was up to Ethan, there wouldn't be half the furniture there is here. I don't appears to be much of the interior decorator type.

While waiting for her to return, I make my way to the kitchen, where I freeze, confounded.

There, in the white and graphite grey kitchen, I see Ethan baking. My eyes widen to unnatural extents, and I stifle a smirk, clearly Maria's not the only one that makes meals in this house.

But the fact that he's baking doesn't end there, he's also wearing a mom apron- pink with white polka dots. He looks like he's channeling his inner Minnie Mouse. Leaning against the door frame for support, I struggle to keep my laughs silent.

If only I had my phone with me right now, this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I wonder where you left that nifty little gadget. We'll worry about that later.

I continue watching in amusement as Ethan drops an egg, and it cracks upon contact. His eyes widen, taking in the mess and his lips mouth 'shit,' and looks at the now reappeared Maria in what can only be described as terror.

I realise why as I turn around, and watch her digest the wreckage before her. One second she's holding a duvet too big for her to carry, the next that's on the floor, a wooden spoon has manifested in her hand, and she's hitting Ethan with it, swearing in French. I struggle to hold in my cackles while he jumps away in futile attempts to dodge the onslaught.

"T'es vraiment nul, I told you to do one thing, and you can't even do that? Imbécile!"

"Alright Maria, stop! Ow, please!" He yelps as she hits him again.

I laugh out loud again, this time louder than the rest. Suddenly two pairs of eyes turn to look at me, halting their banter. Maria points her wooden spoon at me, her hand gripping Ethan's ear tightly.

I put my hands up in surrender, fearful of what she's going to do next, while Maria turns to Ethan and announces, "I like this girl."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and let my hands drop to my sides.

"But, you go rest now or I hit you with spoon."

I hear Ethan snort, and I promptly scurry off, grabbing the duvet on the floor and brining it with me.

I finally manage to clamber up the stairs, and make my way across the one other room to Ethan's master bedroom.

Wait a second.

I backtrack, and open the door to the other room I didn't give any thought to the first night I was here. It's simply furnished, with a disorderly desk to one side, and a boxing bag on the other.

Talk about contrast.

I close it quietly, and walk back to Ethan's room.

Talk about anticlimax. What'd you expect? Another bed? Like he'd actually want to share a bed with you.

I frown. Shut up.

I flip onto the bed, rolling myself up into the duvet on top of his duvet, and sit up. I've successfully managed to become a burrito, someone get the toppings.

Sitting there quietly, I wait patiently for the cold duvet to warm up, and think.

About what? Your head's full of bullshit.

Shut up.

A movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see Ethan poking his head through the doorway. I squint at him, he's fuzzy around the edges without my glasses on, "By all means, come in. It's not like this is your room or anything."

He scowls at me, and strides in, "I was just making sure you, um, were alright."

I side eye him, giving a clearly very unconvinced look, "That doesn't make any sense. I'll let you off today."

He rolls his eyes and place a hand to his chest, "Why thank you for showing such mercy, your highness."

I grin, "Great, now that we've established I'm superior, could you please get me my phone?"

He groans, but complies, and walk to the side of the room to my huge camping bag laid against his wardrobe. He turns to look back at me, "Where'd you keep it?"

I purse my lips, looking up to the ceiling in thought, "The bottom right pouch."

And so he pulls out a box of pads, and looks at me with eyebrows raised, holding back a smirk. My eyes widen, oh god, "My right, your left. Put those back."

While he follows my orders, I allow myself a small moment of pride. Even when I've got a raging step dad and cuts in my arms, I still remember to pack this stuff.

It takes another twenty seconds before I get my phone back, and I spend another half minute trying to wriggle my arms out of the burrito blanket before accepting the thing from his hand.

"Thank you so much, now begone peasant, 'your highness' has exhausted her use of you for the moment," I grin further, loving every second of the torture this definitely is for him. The guys doesn't do jack for anyone, and now I've made him my personal servant. That's got to take its toll on him.

He scowls at me, entirely disgruntled by my antics. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but is cut short by Maria's voice commanding his from downstairs. I prevent myself from laughing, the woman has impeccable timing, that's for sure. Ethan therefore rolls his eyes in vexation, before beginning to drag his feet to the door, "You're lucky you just got back from the hospital, or I would hardly be doing this much shut for you. Feel blessed."

I smirk, "I know, and I plan to enjoy it while it lasts. Now run along, Maria's calling you."

He just scowls at me in response, before walking out the door.

"And could you please close the door on your way out? Thank you," I holler from my spot in the bed.

A hand then reappears and slams the door shut, leaving me to my own devices as I wanted. I bring my eyes to the rectangular box in my hand, and hold down on the power button till the screen turns on to a nearly blinding light, the apple with a bite on it the sole black on the screen. It almost looks like a bullet hole.

Shaking my head, I sit and stare at the lock screen for the phone that was bought recently from stolen money collected over months of stealth work.

And you did it because you wanted to seem like you were privileged and taken care of like a normal child.

At least the camera quality's good.

I sigh, before unlocking my phone, and put in the password Ethan gave me last time for his WiFi. Once done, I watch in trepidation for the texts that would inevitably be received by me. And there it comes, one from each of the people who like to say that they take good care of me.

But then a message for Rita comes through last, reading:

Explain.

I sigh, I'm going to ignore the other texts for now.

I'm going to talk to my best friend, about all the happenings of my life. I'm going to vent, and get it all off my chest. And nobody is going to stop till once I'm done.

*

Heya guys, a fairly slow moving cheater, but I hope you liked it. Do comment and vote!