I settle on a seat in an unknown room after wandering for what feels like hours.

This house did not look this big from the outside.

Or did it?

I've been here so long I can't remember.

Hold on, am I even at Lucas' house anymore? Or did his house lead through an underground cave and into the White House or something?

Hard to explain, but this sets off a series of thoughts and memories that quickly leads to me remembering the existence of my phone.

How convenient.

This then reminds me that I, quite annoyingly, still have Lucas' contact in my phone.

Why, oh, why, dear phone must you eat my important contacts, and leave certain ones untouched?

You know what? This must be revenge for the water to rice trick I pulled on it.

Hey, it was an accident! And the water was to save its life. Shoot, I mean the rice was to save his life.

Or did I mean water? Maybe it was going to die of thirst, and I saved its life.

The sound of my phone going off snaps me out of my thoughts.

Hang on a minute, is that the Duck Song?

"No, I don't have grapes," I say the minute I pick up the call.

"What?" Lucas' voice comes from the other side.

I purse my lips as I wait for it to click.

"Oh, right! I forgot I did that!" he finally realizes.

"Congratulations, Sherlock," I say sarcastically. "You found out 'who done it'."

"Compliment?"

"Nope."

Silence. "But shouldn't it be—"

"It's sarcasm, not a compliment," I retort. "Now, what is the reason for this call that interrupted my very important...work?"

Thinking is work. Even if it sounded like I was just going nuts in the noggin.

"I was trying to find you after I pulled up the Wiki article, but you were nowhere to be found," he replies dramatically. "Now I think I'm in the lower west wing's washing room."

"And I think I'm in a..." I pause, for the first time looking at the large displays lined in a large circle around me, glittering and advertising food and shops.

FOOD.

And...shops.

But more importantly: FOOD.

I make an odd choking noise in the back of my throat as I gawk at the whole entire mall inside this boy's house.

"I guess you found our mall," Lucas says casually, almost annoyedly. Like it's a bother having a darn MALL inside his HOUSE.

"Okay, hold up, this is even better than finding a kitchen or the front door," I say, still staring at the flashing lights urging me to join them in their leisurely, filthy rich life.

I hear I sigh escape my phone's speaker, but I ignore it as I rush forward like a kid in a candy shop.

IS THAT A CHICK-FIL-A?

"I can call you back in a bit," I speak distractedly into my phone. "Or never." Then I hang up.

I walk up to the first place, simply following my nose to the delicious smell. I peek over the counter and give a disappointed sigh when I notice no employees.

Before I push off the counter though, I hear a loud crash come from behind the large 'employees only' sign. "Hello?" I call out.

Silence.

I swiftly jump over the separating counter and approach the swinging doors, pushing them forward and stepping into the kitchen.

There I find Justin, sprawled on the floor with sticky sauce, chicken, and rice laying about him.

You've got to be kidding me.

"What are you doing here?" I question, hand resting on my hip as I eye him with a sharp gaze that I hope is like steak knives to his shifting eyes.

"Exactly what you came here to do," he replies, face falling to a casual smile as he tries to look cool on the floor, resting in the spilled sauce.

"Where are all the employees?" I ask, looking around at the raided kitchen.

I'm as hungry as a pack of wild wolves, and I still couldn't eat half the food that had probably been in here before Justin came.

Where is the food he eats going? Does he have an antarctic wasteland in his stomach? I mean his empty head can only fit so much, you know?

"They're off today," Justin returns, reaching his head over to lick his fingers. "But we're allowed to help ourselves to anything when they're not here. Mr. Bryant pays for it all. He insists."

I'm about to dig into a tray of food when the duck song starts playing from my back pocket. I roll my eyes, reaching behind and pulling out my phone. "What is it?" I say rather grumpily.

"I'm outside the Bryant Mall," Lucas says from the other side. "What restaurant are you at?"

"Why?" I reply, holding back snarky replies that want to come out due to my extreme hunger.

"It's almost eight p.m," he answers. "Your parents are probably expecting you. You did call them to tell them that you were over at someone's house, right?"

I bite my lip, refusing to answer as I walk out of the back kitchen and into the open area. I see Lucas from afar, looking around for me with a worried look on his face.

Sighing, I jump the counter and slowly make my way over to him. "I was literally this close to satisfying my hunger."

"With what food?" a voice questions from behind me.

"The food from the restaurants!" I reply exasperatedly.

"About that..." Justin trails off, leaving me with only one thought in mind.

No.

Way.

I slowly turn to face him. "How in the fried chicken did you manage that!?"

"I was hungry," he replies with a shrug.

"Oh? Is that so?" I say, fuming but not popping my fuse. My right eye twitches. "Well, I know how to make sure you're never hungry again."

"Really? Because my mom has tried different things for years, but nothing helps. I'm just always hungry." He gives another casual shrug, his eyes closed without a care in the world.

I'm about to pounce when strong arms hold me back. "Let me go," I grit out. "I need to knock some brain cells into his empty head."

"Come on, Paris," Lucas murmurs quietly. "You can get some food at home."

"Okay," I reply, suddenly understanding the term of being 'hangry' and how very unpleasant it was.

Ｈａｎｇｒｙ

H𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

Ｈａｎｇｒｙ

A𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

I breathe out and turn on my heels, easily breaking free from Lucas' grasp. I grin at the surprised gasp behind me, and the thump of Lucas falling to the floor.

I might be hungry but that doesn't mean I'm weak. "Come on," I say. "Let's get out of this place."

———————

"Mom! I'm home!" I call, slamming the door behind me and dropping my backpack down on the floor.

"Finally, sweetheart!" my mom exclaims, seemingly appearing from nowhere to give me a tight hug. "I was so worried. We almost called the police."

I wiggle away from her grasp, and push her away, breathing out, "Shore, mom."

"YOU LET PARIS GO TO THE BEACH BUT NOT ME!?" a voice screeches from my left.

I turn to face my fuming older sister in a pair of fuzzy pajamas and a hair towel wrapped tightly around her head. The towel's pulling her eyes and making her look Asian.

I try not to laugh at her appearance. "No, you four-year-old," I say, folding my arms and pursing my lips. "I was over at a...friend's house." I shift slightly and suspiciously, but my mom and older sister don't seem to notice. My little sister, on the other hand, (looking especially short in her nightgown, I might add) gives me a raised eyebrow from the shadows.

"Shore," she whispers as she walks past me to her bedroom. Then she stops. "If you had any friends."

I scoff, a slight smirk rising to my lips. "Well, that's better than you," I whisper back. "You have negative zero friends."

She frowns, giving me a once over, and then flips her hair and stomps away.