Nicky woke up at 6:00 in the morning to the sound of little fists pounding at his door.

        He rolled himself out of bed, the cold hitting his bare chest, causing a shiver to run down his spine and freeze his entire body up for a few seconds. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and opened the door to find one of his siblings staring up at him with bright green eyes and an even brighter red nose.

        "I threw up," Naya told him.

        Nicky groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before kneeling down to his baby sister's level. "Do you still feel sick?"

        "Yes."

        "Did you ask anyone if they have medicine?"

        "Nasir, Noah, and Nahla didn't have any and Naveen and Nadyah wouldn't wake up."

        He found it hard to believe out of his five other siblings, not one of them had a single pill to help a four year old with her stomach ache. Being the oldest, he tried his best to keep track of them and support them like their parents would if they had the time to, but holy shit was it difficult. Juggling the lives of six kids all under fourteen with disgustingly similar names (he liked to think of his family as the middle class, Lebanese Kardashians) was hard enough, but it was even worse on Christmas break when none of them had school.

        He groaned and bounded down the stairs before his dad could step out the door. "Baba!" He called out, stopping his father in his tracks right before he could close the door. "Did you pick up the car from the shop yet?"

        His dad pinched the bridge of his with his long fingers. "I had no time yesterday, Nicolas. Everyday I'm away from my family for-"

        "-Twelve whole hours. I know, Baba," he mumbled, stopping himself before his dad gave him a lecture on respect. "Can you go get some Pepto or something before work, then? Naya doesn't feel well and I nearly got frostbite when I went to go pick up everyones meds yesterday."

        Baba shook his head. "This snowstorm is already making me late. If I have time on the way home I will get something for her, but no promises," he told Nicky.

        "Whatever," Nicky called out as his father walked out the door, "I'll just do it myself."

        That's how he found himself walking to Happy's pharmacy in the (too) early morning for the fourth time in a winter break that had barely begun. He was shivering beneath the two jackets he had layered on and his snow boots didn't seem to be doing their job too well because he could feel slush sloshing under his toes. He grumbled a few choice words about his family ever so often, but mostly it was a dead silent walk.

        He was bored. Yesterday he'd had a fine time walking by himself, but today was painful. That's when he remembered why he wasn't bored the day before: halfway to the pharmacy, he found someone to walk with; someone who wouldn't let him stop talking.

        Nicky thought Jonah was annoying. Who asks that many questions? He kept digging deep— almost too deep— into Nicky's personal life to the point where he was trying to walk faster to cut the conversation short. Now, he felt like his playlist— consisting mostly of Bob Dylan— wasn't interesting enough to keep him awake so early, and he sorta missed the other boy's talking.

        The more he thought about it, the more he realized Jonah wasn't talking his ear off like he'd remembered it being. Jonah would ask tons of questions, yes, but then he'd listen intently on whatever Nicky had to say. Come to think of it, he didn't once mention himself.

        "Westview," Jonah had repeated with a whistle, "nice school. Do you play hockey there?"

        His school was pretty well known for having one of the best hockey teams in Minnesota, but Nicky was one of the only kids who had a scholarship to Westview for his brain. They excelled in academics just as much as they did hockey, but nobody really cared about how smart he was.

        Jonah could've put in his own opinion when Nicky explained all that, but he didn't. He simply nodded and moved onto the next question— something about Westview's hockey team— but he didn't say anything that could hint at what kind of person he was. For all Nicky knew, Jonah could've been a cannibal or a murderer or something.

        Something about him made him so easy to talk to. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head a little bit, like a lost puppy, whenever Nicky answered one of his questions, or maybe it was because in the ten minute long conversation Nicky had with him, he hadn't been the slightest bit judgmental. He just nodded his head and moved on.

        "What's your favorite class?"

        "AP Calc, I guess."

        "Oh. Do you take electives?"

        "Yeah. Computer sciences."

        "Oh. PE?"

        "It's required."

        "Oh."

        Nod.

        "Oh."

        Nod.

       "Oh."

        Nod.

        "Nicky?"

        He snapped his head up from the floor and suddenly, he was at Happy's about to crash into a wall of gift cards. He turned around to find Jonah and the other one at the counter, the former looking more concerned than the girl giggling at Nicky's confusion.

        "Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept in days," Jonah commented.

        He meant to say "I'm fine, fuck off," but all that came out was, "what's your name?"

        Jonah drew his brows together. "I'm Jonah," he said slowly, "are you sure you're alright?"

        "Full name," Nicky said, "give me your long, full, entire name."

        "Why?"

        "Because you know mine, so I wanna know yours."

        He looked sort of suspiciously at Nicky, but answered after a few seconds of hesitation with, "Jonah Solomon Yitchak Moshe. Jonah because of the guy who got swallowed by a whale, and the other ones for a bunch of dead Israeli relatives I've never met."

        Jonah Moshe

        Nicky swore he'd heard that name before. He couldn't put his finger on from what, but it sounded familiar. He decided that it'd be no use asking Jonah— he was surprised that kid even remembered his name with how much information he absorbed. Instead he chuckled dryly. "You might be the only other not white person in this entire town," he joked.

        "I'm literally right here," Priya said, gesturing to her arms that, due to her Indian heritage, were a rich shade of brown.

        He gave her a sarcastic thumbs up. "Cool."

        "I could hop over this desk and kick your ass before you can even call my manager, kid," Priya snapped, jumping up and down behind the counter like she was waiting to step into the ring.

        Nicky scoffed. "Bullshit."

        "Wanna bet?"

         "Try me, bitch."

        "Guys!" Jonah exclaimed sending glares to the both of them, "don't be dumb. Nicky, what'd you come here for?"

        "Oh, yeah," Nicky mumbled, suddenly remembering why he left the house, "Pepto."

———————

it's Nicky's POV! Fun times!

I thought double POV stories were gonna be easier than single POV. Turns out, not really. More fun to write though.

Anyway how was your guys' weekends? Rant in the comments honestly just go off.

~Teddy