Page 25 of Five Summers

“You think I’m lying, Princess?”

“Yes, cut the shit, Xander. Be straight with me for once and I might let you in the house.”

"Okay," I nod, uncertainty lingering in the air. Other than Ace, Poppy possesses the unique ability to see through my act and call out my bullshit.

"Alright then, you can come in,” she says, her hand on the door. The hinges creak as she opens it wider.

As I step into the house, the delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies tickles my nostrils. I haven’t eaten all day, and the smell of food is making my mouth water.

“Got any food?” I ask as I settle down on the couch in the exact spot I sat over a week ago. The thought of what went down last time I sat here makes my dick hard. I hope I can talk her into doing it again.

"Sure, I'll grab you something," she says, her voice fading as she walks towards the kitchen.

Her shorts fit snugly around her curves, catching my attention.

"Alright, Xander, spill it," she says, her voice carrying from the kitchen. “Tell me what happened and this time without all the bullshit.”

Giving me a quick glance, she reaches for a bowl from the cupboard, then makes her way across to the fridge.

I stay silent, watching her every move, because I’ve no fucking idea how to tell her the truth. How could she ever understand the shit that engulfs my life when she lives a life full of comfort? Despite her own challenges with her mom, she cannot fathom the daily struggles I endure.

She moves across to the microwave to warm up the food. While it’s heating, she turns and leans her hip against the countertop.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Normally I would just tell her to fuck off, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Is it because I’m hungry and want to eat?Or is it because I want her to give me another blow job? Or is it something more, something hidden beneath the surface?

I shift my focus to the TV, the flashing images on the screen a welcome distraction from the awkward silence. The bitches from Beverly Hills are back on. The TV is muted, but I can still see the intense drama unfolding on the screen. One crazy bitch is pulling the other bitch’s hair.

As I drop my head and pick a loose thread at my jeans, I feel the weight of her gaze on me.

“Me and my dad got into it,” I blurt out, the weight of the argument clear in my tone.

Without a word, she walks to the double-door fridge, opens it, and retrieves an object before heading my way.

“Here, put this on your nose,” she says, holding out a pack of frozen peas.

I take the cold pack and press it gently against my face, feeling the chill seep into my skin.

At the sound of the microwave beeping, Poppy walks back to the kitchen. With a bowl and fork in hand, she comes back over. As she hands it to me, the delicious aroma of the lasagna fills the air. With a flick of my wrist, I toss the frozen packet of peas onto the coffee table.

Poppy turns away, then returns a few seconds later with a can of Coke and two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

As she sets them down on the coffee table, she sits beside me on the couch. My eyes follow her every move as she folds her long legs underneath her. It's hard not to notice that she's created more distance between us on the couch compared to the last time.

With every bite of cheesy lasagna, I feel Poppy's piercing gaze on me. As I fill my mouth with food, I steal a quick glance at her. She focuses on the bruises around my neck.

"Does it hurt?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine with concern.

“Not now, it doesn’t.”

“Talk to me, Xander. Tell me what really happened?”

“Fuck, we just got into it, okay? You wouldn’t understand Princess.”

“Try me?”

Her blue eyes hold my gaze as I chew my food. “My old man hates me. Well, one time he didn’t, but now he does, now that he knows he isn’t my father.” I continue to stuff my face with food, my thoughts scattered and unfocused.

---