You Are Nothing What You Seem

"I'm so tired," I moan.

We've just finished the Return of the King. It's about seven in the morning.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it to tonight," I say.

Alex laughs, wide awake. "Go to sleep then." There's a challenge in his voice.

"No, I don't think I will," I say defiantly.

I'm still curled into his side, my head resting on his shoulder. It's so hard not to just close my eyes and go to sleep, you have no idea.

I stand up, lurching off the couch, and stumble into the kitchen. I need food. I open the fridge and shiver in the blast of cold air. I lean forward, picking through the take-out boxes.

I pull out a box of pizza and shut the fridge, carrying the box over to the counter next to the microwave. I pull a plate down from the cabinet overhead and plunk two pieces of pizza, just cheese, down on it. I put the plate into the microwave, plug in the code for pizza, hit 2, and press START.

Alex follows me out to the kitchen and sits down at the table as I get a glass of water.

"Can you get me some, too?"

"No," I say shortly, taking a sip of my drink.

"Why not?"

Because I'm reverting back to my original programming. To hate you. "Don't feel like it."

I can feel it. I'm pulling back inside. This 'closeness' with Alex scares me. I don't like it. I'm trying to get away from it.

"Bitch," Alex says. He stands up and gets himself a glass of water as I watch the plate of pizza revolving inside the microwave.

"You know it," I reply.

I can't see his face from here, but I can tell he rolls his eyes.

"You're so immature."

"You know it," I repeat, grinning.

He just sighs, and in the glass of the microwave window, I can see his reflection shaking its head. I giggle.

Just then, the microwave beeps, the pizza stops revolving, and the light inside shuts off. Squealing with glee, I open the door and pull out my pizza.

I carry it over to the table and set it down. I spin to the fridge and pull out the bottle of Italian dressing. I take a small bowl from the cabinet and carry both over to the table, sitting down in front of my pizza. I pour the dressing into the bowl, then pick up a piece of pizza. I dip the tip into the dressing and take a bite.

"Yum."

Alex is staring at me with a look of absolute disgust on his face. "Ew. That's gross."

"Have you ever tried it?" I ask, taking another bite. He shakes his head.

"Heat up a piece of pizza and try it. Just one bite."

He shakes his head again. "No, that's disgusting."

"Alright, if you think you can't handle it," I say, letting the challenge hang out in the open.

He immediately takes a piece of pizza out of the box, puts it on a plate, and sticks the plate in the microwave. All the while, I'm eating my strange pizza-dressing mix, smirking at him.

When his pizza is ready, Alex carries the plate over to the table, dips the pizza into my bowl of dressing, and takes a big bite. Chewing furiously, he refuses to look at me. After he swallows, he makes a face at me.

"You liked it, didn't you," I say smugly.

"I hate you," He says.

"Yes!" I shout, pumping my fist in the air victoriously.

He sticks the pizza in the dressing again and takes a bite.

"Hey, no double-dipping in someone else's dressing!" I say, pulling the bowl away from him.

"You've had my tongue in your mouth, and you're worried about me double-dipping?" Alex asks, incredulous.

"Yes," I say bitchily.