I help Paul carry everything inside and start putting things away. I don't have to ask where they go anymore. 

Ophelia, the five-year-old, screams. Figures, she's always in a pissy mood. Honestly, I kinda hate her, but I hate most children so it's not like she's special or anything. But by the way she acts even though she's almost six, I have my suspicions that she could be autistic. But nobody asked my thoughts, so I'll shut up about that.

Paul and I bump into each other a bit. We're pretty quiet, which isn't normal or abnormal. It's fine, but sometimes I get a little too lost in my head and need a distraction, something to pull me back. This was one of those times. But Paul was busy worrying about money and Ophelia and her mom, so I didn't bother her.

"Georgia, get in here!" Mrs. Leeland snaps. "I was supposed to be on the road ten minutes ago!" 

Paul winces and rolls her eyes. I sympathy-pat her shoulder. 

"I'll get the groceries, you get Filly."

"Thank you."

"Can it, loser." I smile and shove her away. She stumbles a bit too easily. My smile falls. She has been eating lately, right? It dawns on me that I haven't seen her eat in a while, of course we didn't have lunch together today so she coulda eaten then. I'll have to drill her on it when we're alone again.

Filly's offensive screeches die down now that her big sister is there. Mrs. Leeland comes clicking down the hall and straight out the door, not even bothering to thank me or tell us where she's going. Mrs. Leeland is a bitch.

"Hey. Eat this." I shove some of the fruit we bought Paul's way. She loves honeydew melon. 

"Beau, I'm not hungry." She tries to move around me, but I move to block her. I push the plastic container toward her again. 

"Eat." I narrow my eyes. I hate that she's taller than me.

"Move, I have to make dinner." 

"Have a snack before you do." We stare each other down, almost nose-to-nose. I have to admit, it sends a thrill through my chest.

"Whatever, if you'll leave me alone, fine." I smirk triumphantly as she takes the honeydew.

She sets a pan on the stove and starts slicing up bell peppers. We talk and cook together; I man the stove and stir, she does the rest. She calls everyone to the table, and we sit down to eat.

There's her older brother, Collin. He's a jock, and kind of a dick. He's also super hot. I've hooked up with him before. He denies any attraction to men or masculinity, but I know his secret. Kinda makes me feel powerful, you know?

Then, of course there's Filly. That's not her actual name, we just call her that. She can be sweet sometimes, but she's also  manipulative and selfish and spoiled.

Paul has another younger sister too, Emily. She... well, she's a handful. You can see for yourself.

Emily is currently pouting, Collin is picking at his food and on his phone, and Filly is giggling at the mess she made in her high chair. Paul gives me a look, one I know well. She needs an escape. So I help her out.

"Come on guys, eat your food and get showers in before bed."

"I don't want this," Emily grumbles, turning her nose up. Collin glowers at me, taking his food with him to his room. Not gonna lie, that glare was hot. Anyways.

"Well then, what do you want?" I pick a noodle Filly just flung at me off my arm.

"Forget it, I'll just make it myself!" All in a huff, she stomps into the kitchen to make herself something. Kids.

I couldn't focus for the rest of dinner. I zoned out quite a bit, but I kept getting jerked out of it by Filly and Emily. Paul was doing her best to corral them, and she was doing pretty well considering.

The rest of the dinner scene was hectic, as always, but it kinda just fell away in a weird blur. Next thing I know, we're in Paul's room, lying on the floor, my head next to hers. The room is hazy from my dab pen. Like usual, Paul didn't partake. I respect that.

"Beau?"

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" She doesn't respond. I turn to look at her. "Hello, Earth to Paul? I thought I was the high one."

"Never mind," she sighs. I can tell something's bugging her, but I won't press. It's too quiet, even with the TV idling in the background, so I turn on some music.

It isn't unusual for us to sit in silence. We're the kind of friends that don't always need to be talkin'. But sometimes I need to keep up that chatter, to distract my brain.

Wait a sec, that thought feels so familiar. Ah right, I thought the same thing last time this happened. In the kitchen. Yeah.

Well, this is kinda awkward.

I reach up and bop Paul on the shoulder. She pulls away from me a bit. I frown and bop her again. Opening her eyes, she turns her face to mine.

"You're upside down, you know," I say. She reaches up and plays with a piece of my hair.

"So are you, dingus."

"No, you are."

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, I know."

"But you're my idiot."

"That'd be the truth, miss."

"Am I ever gonna be able to rid myself of you?"

"Nope. I'm never leaving, I'll just nest myself in your closet or the pantry or whatever. Maybe build a hole out in the backyard if I'm feeling it."

She at long last laughs and cracks a smile. "You can stay the night, but after that I'm afraid you gotta go. It's in the third amendment."

I get up on my elbows and glare at her. "Bold of you to assume I know the amendments by heart."

"No quartering of soldiers," she says, rolling her eyes.

"I am so far out from anything that resembles a soldier, I mean look at this." I pat my belly. "Chonk does not equal buff, and I cannot believe I just used the word chonk to describe myself."

She shrugs. I haul myself off the floor and check Paul's alarm clock. It's starting to get late. I should really go home, but I don't want to. Being here with Paul is a lot better.

I go over to her dresser and open the top drawer. It's reserved for me, just like mine is reserved for her. Not that she uses it much, just when she needs to get away from this chaotic place.

"Whatcha doin', Beau?"

"Gonna shower." I grab some clothes and a towel. "Be right back, babe."

I take my sweet time. The water at my house gets cold quick, but I like taking longer showers. To be honest, I was kinda sorta maybe thinking (hoping?) that Collin would accidentally walk in and he'd fuck the shit outta me in the shower like a Wattpad fanfiction.

But life doesn't really work like that, so he didn't.

I put some product in my hair and throw on a tank top and joggers. Good enough, I suppose.

"Hey." Paul's still lying-- laying?-- on the floor. "Good?"

"Yeah." She yawns. "I haven't been on TikTok the entire time you were gone, whatever do you mean?"

"Sure, Paul." We chat and set up for the night. I grab some snacks and drinks, pile blankets on the bed, and stick myself right in the middle. I give Paul a smug smile.

"I don't have any room."

"You got plenty, loser, it's not like I take up your entire full-size bed." She doesn't budge. We standoff for a solid minute or two before I scooch over enough for her to sit.

We put on some NCIS and chill together, occasionally bopping each other on the arm or leg or something. Every friendship has those sweet idiosyncrasies-- the inside jokes, the small signals, body language, et cetera-- that other people won't quite understand. Lightly hitting each other was one of Paul's and mine. It was nice, in a strange way. Paul is special, and our friendship is too. We're very different. Well, Paul isn't that different, but she doesn't quite fit in anywhere else.

That isn't purely my speculation, by the way. I'm not an asshole. Well, sometimes.

I zone out a bit, thinking. You probably don't wanna hear about it, just a bunch of dumb deep shit. That happens a lot, it's kind of a problem, but I just let it happen and don't really do anything about it.

When I look over, Paul's asleep on my shoulder. She's cute, real peaceful, unlike the stress lining her face in consciousness. I poke her a bit, and she lays down with some grumpy noises. I stay up a bit longer, then I lay down too. Didn't really mean to fall asleep in the bed, but it's fine, I don't have a problem sharing a bed with her. It's not weird or anything, we're just friends.

Haha. Kiss your homies goodnight, am I right?