Uneasy Hearts Weigh The Most

When I woke up, exactly how much later I don’t know, Aubergine was no longer in her bedroom with me. I assumed she was probably somewhere downstairs talking to her mom or something. They’re pretty close. I rose sleepily off the bed and went over to the mirror making sure that my reflection was not utterly repulsive; I simply had to fix my hair a little before it looked acceptable again.

As soon as I left the privacy of her room I heard her voice accompanied with her mothers’, discussing something about food. I must have been asleep for a long time; Aubergine fell asleep at about two.

I walked gingerly down the stairs, careful as ever when I’m in this house.

“Hi Mrs. Jackson,” I greeted Aubergine’s mother as I turned into the kitchen where her back was to me. Nobody had been home when the two of us came in many hours ago, but I assumed she knew about my presence in the house.

“Oh, hello Zac!” she greeted as she turned around to face me, a generic cooking apron tied around both her neck and back and a smile on her face. “Aubergine and I were just getting dinner ready – vegetarian chili.”

“It sounds delicious,” I replied as the devil herself came out of the dining room.
“I see you’re awake,” was her greeting.

“Yeah, I just got up. Do you need help with dinner, Mrs. Jackson?” I asked, trying to be polite.

“No, Aubergine just set up the table and I should be able to do the rest on my own. You two can just hang around until it’s ready. Thank you though, Zachary.” She likes to use my full name when she’s flustered or grateful.

“Okay, we’ll be in the office,” Gina said and led our path up the stairs. I must say, the view of her ass on the way up was simply spectacular.

She plopped down on the couch first in the room right next to hers, and grabbed the remote, turning the television on. The N came on, and I must admit that it is my worst (or would it really be best?) guilty pleasure. The intense drama on all of the shows (except for Saved By The Bell, granted) always managed to hook me right in just like they’re supposed to; because who doesn’t want to see how the victim of a school shooting ends up, whether or not a girl makes it mentally through her teenage pregnancy, or what happens when the two gay girls might have to break up because one is going to college?

“What do you want to watch?” Aubergine asked me as I sat down with equal force onto the bouncy couch. “I don’t care,” I replied, picking up the pillow to my left and rearranging it so that I could lay down and rest my head against it. “I’m going to lie down again.”

“What the hell has got you so tired?” she asked, scrolling up through the channels. “I was and always am the sleepy one.”

“ I don’t know,” I laid my head down and splayed my legs across her lap.

The position was rather comfortable, but it might have had something to do with Aubergine’s hand under the hem of my pants lightly stroking my ankle. Her hand was warm and felt good against my cool skin.

Fuse was on, and music videos were playing but the noise didn’t even register to me; all I felt was her hand on my leg. It wasn’t intensely sexual or anything, but it felt good and also managed to give me some hope.

It was also soothing, which made the time pass. It felt like hardly any had gone by when she was calling my name gently to wake me up.

I grumbled in protest but opened by eyes nevertheless and rose from my comfy position.
Wordlessly Aubergine led the way out of the room and I obediently followed like the pathetic little sidekick that I am. But I wouldn’t have it any other way; I’m her bitch and she is mine.
The smell of the chili wafted up to the stairs and into my nostrils and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten since that morning.

All the dinnerware was set out on the table: plates, glasses, silverware, napkins, salt and pepper.
“It smells delicious, Mrs. Jackson,” I praised, and she virtually beamed with delight.
“Oh, thank you Zac,” she was scrambling around to make last minute touches. “You always know how to make me feel good about myself.”

I smiled politely in return and took the seat I knew was always left open at the four-person table. Aubergine’s mother always sat at the head of the table closest to the kitchen, her husband directly across from her at the other head, Aubergine on her mother’s right, the chair across from Aubergine unoccupied and reserved for guests such as me.
“Hey there buddy boy!” came a loud booming voice from my right. I looked over to see Mr. Jackson, a slightly overweight man in his early fifties who always gives me the impression of being high. I know that must sound bad, but he’s always in such a good, joking, and crazy mood that I don’t see how he can possibly keep up with that kind of energy 24/7. He reminds me slightly of my algebra teacher, who is always so peppy you would think she’s taking an hourly dose of caffeine or something.

I know for a fact though that he isn’t ever high, so that possibility is eliminated. But that doesn’t explain his joking habits and happy-go-lucky nature.

“Hey Mr. Jackson!” I greeted, giving him a hi-five trying to level up with his energy. Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.

“Cindy, sit down!” Aubergine’s father pleaded of his wife. “Everything is fine! It smells delicious.” My best friend’s parents are very much in love.

She followed her husband’s request and sat down very ladylike in her cushioned chair before allotting herself a bit of salad from the large bowl onto her plate before passing it to Aubergine.

“I didn’t know you were joining us, Zac,” Mr. Jackson began while serving himself some of the chili from the equally large bowl onto his plate.

“Neither did I until about a half hour ago,” I replied, anxiously awaiting food to cross my path; I was so hungry the salad dressing by itself on my spoon sounded pretty good. “Aubergine and I were outside this afternoon and then came inside to wash up and ended up taking naps.”

“Well that explains it then.” And he took a large bite of his chili. I could have slapped him for it. And I thought that when you had guests over they got served first? Or did I think that just because I was dreadfully hungry?

“Zac!”

I tore my eyes away from Mr. Jackson where they were staring blankly to see Aubergine glaring at me in a menacing but joking way.

“Huh?” I responded, clueless as to why she was practically shouting at me at the dinner table.

“Salad! And chili!”

“Wha-? Oh!” The salad andthe chili were now to be served at my leisure. Thank goodness, because if I had to wait any longer I probably would’ve started to have hallucinations or something from lack of nutrition.