A Little Bit of Everything

THE TIME I actually went back to my dorm room, Sylar Mendoza wasn't there. A part of me screamed for joy; a part of me sunk a little bit deeper into my skin.

A couple days later, I went back and Sylar was FaceTiming his mother. He was sitting in his chair with his back towards me. His head was leveled with his phone; he sounded happy. Me being me, I placed my head behind Sylar and dropped my chin on his shoulder. I heard him gasp.

“Hello, Mrs. Mendoza,” I beamed. I watched her eyes widen. “How's it going?”

Sylar pushed my chin away and gave me a look; his jaw tightened and his lips were pressed into a hard line.

“Hello, Jasper. I'm good. Just finishing up dinner.” Her thick accent filled the room.

Sylar was still staring me, mortified by this.

I decided to play with him too. “What's for dinner?”

Mrs. Mendoza straightened her back before she answered. “Have you heard of chicken adobo?”

My eyes widened. “I have! My grandma cooks it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Sylar pressed his lips together. He looked so peeved. It was great.

“Yeah! My grandma used to cook that for me and my sister when we were younger.”

“So with Sy.” She added, “It's one of his favorite foods.”

I grinned, “Yeah?” This time Sylar angled his phone a certain way so his mother could no longer see me. He ended the call and gave me a stern look.

I wanted to snicker. I stepped back and began opening my closet.

“What was that about?”

“I wanted to say hi to your mom,” I admit as I searched through my closet for a shirt.

Sylar puffed, “Please.” His tone was surprising.

He turned his back towards me and started looking through his phone. He was silent. Maybe he was angry with me.

I left the room, cracking a small smile.

Oh, Sylar.