Annette

15

The sun rose and everything fell. 6:43 AM. I become acutely aware of this fact: Winter hates me. That’s okay. “I hate you too,” I whisper to the cold as I crawl slowly out of bed. In the end, I should’ve worn socks to sleep, but I hate socks more than I hate the cold.

7:15 AM. Done with the whole waking up routine— wailing more at the cold, washing my feet with warm water in the sink while brushing my teeth, and more scowling at the snow outside. Alex finally notices I’m awake. He wakes up far too early for anyone to manage, even on vacation. Maybe that’s why they all left for Hempstead. And so conveniently left me and Alex to house-sit. In all reality, they want me to make sure he doesn’t blow up the house. And they want me here because I’m the only one that gets along with him enough to stay with him for a week. And Alex? He volunteered (as in was carefully led) to take care of Mr. Nobs. Alex is the only person Mr. Nobs doesn’t openly hate. He secretly hates Alex though, we’re pretty sure of it. But I don’t think he knows. I don’t think poor Nobsy can help it either. He’s a cat. It’s in his nature.

7:18 AM. Alex is making breakfast. He’s humming while he makes breakfast. Of course, he just had to ask me beforehand. “Are you hungry? I already ate, sorry. Oh, and I fed Mr. Nobs.” Of course I’m hungry Alex. I just woke up. But he’s just like that. He’s the kind of person who’ll forget to eat. Not on purpose or anything like that, he just forgets. Just like how he forgot to blow out the candles one time and almost set the house on fire. Mr. Nobs saved us then. He kept meowing obnoxiously, until someone woke up and blew out the tiny stub.

7:29 AM. “So.” He’s trying to talk over the sizzle of eggs and oil. That never works out well. “Did you sleep well last night?” He always asks me that question whenever I get up. So that’s nothing new. That’s just what he does. He always asks certain people a specific question every morning. For me, it’s if I slept well. Only because I scream and talk and walk and snore and knock on doors in my sleep. Also because I have trouble falling asleep now. But that’s because it’s cold. So no Alex, I did not sleep well last night because our heat isn’t working. “Yeah, I slept okay.” He smiles. “That’s good.” And how do I know without actually looking at his face? You can hear his smile when he speaks. It’s weird.

7:52 AM. “I might have burned the eggs a little on the left side. You don’t mind, do you?” You…what? You burned the eggs? How do you burn an egg, is that even Alex? Really. It’s an egg thats supposed to be soft and yolky and oh no that’s not done over easy Alex. “Also, I know you like them over easy, but I don’t want to… you know, mess up your first meal.” I am now incredibly aware of the fact that you suck at cooking eggs. Significantly suck. You might say that was a super sweet gesture or whatever, but that’s just how he is. “It looks good Alex. Thanks.” He smiles again and runs one hand through his hair like he always does when he’s really relieved. Let it be known, yes I am that one half-jerk in this family. But to be clear, I am a lovable person with half-jerky tendencies.

7:56 AM. He hands me a fork. “I’m going to be upstairs.” Yes, Alex. I know. That’s where you stay. Upstairs. And I have egg in my mouth. “Not in the attic, you know, but just upstairs.” I nod my head as I shove another piece of egg into my mouth. He stares at me for a bit. I stare at him as I chew. I clear my throat. “Okay. I’ll call you if I need you.” He smiles and is upstairs-bound. He probably is just going to lay around in bed with Mr. Nobs doing whatever.

8:21 AM. This is going to be a long day. I wash my plate and work and head upstairs to the attic. Yes, I sleep in the attic. It’s a nice attic with a window and everything. And no, it’s not creepy and has spiders. It’s right on top of Alex, so it can’t be that creepy. And as I suspected, Alex is watching something with Mr. Nobs snuggled next to him. I jump sprawl into my bed. And Alex makes a little noise of surprise as Nobsy hisses. Our walls are thin, in case you didn’t notice yet. And because of those ridiculously thin walls, I hear the volume of whatever they were watching go down a little bit. And I hear Mr. Nobs purr abnormally loudly for a cat. “I know you hate me Nobsy. You don’t have to remind me.” I roll over to one side and moan, willing sleep to fall upon me. I roll over again, and try about fifty different positions. You know, left side, right side, no side and only on back. Then the standard curling, all on the four different corners, and trying with a pony tail, then a bun, then a braid, then pigtails, then releasing my tangles, and stuff. So I wail a bit more, trying to harness the powers of the universe or something. Karma. It must be the karma. “I didn’t mean what I said about winter and Nobsy, karma. Just let me go to sleep.” Alas, nothing. “Ugh.”

9:04 AM. Footsteps on stairs. Coming slowly up. “C’mon Mr. Nobsy. Let’s go silly.” He may just snuggle up with me like yesterday. And that would be bad. Namely because I didn’t shower at all, but also because he always watches some throwback 80’s movie. And that just makes me feel old. Really, really old.
Yesterday, he walked in with his laptop in one hand, demolished plastic cups in the other, and Mr. Nobs. Poor Nobsy. He could’ve murdered me with that glare. And typically I glare back at him. “What? Did I do something wrong?” Poor Alex. He’s a little clueless sometimes. But when Alex turns back and at smiles at him, that little backstabbing two-face purrs and rubs up against his legs! “Someone’s just a little grumpy cause she didn’t sleep last night.” And, once again, Alex reminds me that’s he’s not an idiot. So he crawled into my bed with that jerk of a cat that is Mr. Nobs. But of course, he asked his awkward little question beforehand. “Do you mind if I…?” Alex, if you walked into my room with a laptop and Nobsy, and I didn’t banshee-scream or pretend I was sleeping, of course you can assume that I am letting you into my bed. “Sure.” And I just rolled a little more over to the side. Remember, I am just a half-jerk. Nobsy is the full-blown ultimate jerk of the household, as this particular incident from yesterday so tenderly adds to the ever-growing pile of evidence. So, Alex rolled over next to me, and put his laptop down. And then, because he’s always using those life hacks they post on Facebook— yes, Alex is that kind of person— he placed the strangely cut parts of the plastic cup over his keyboard. “Hey, is the speaker at the top or the bottom?” Alex. The holes. That’s the speaker. And so obviously, the speaker is on top! “Top, I think. Where are the holes?” “Ah.” He smiles. “Top.” Really, you smile for no reason sometimes. It’s annoying. “Thought so.” He hits the resume button, and as I suspected it’s some really crummy throwback movie from the 80s or the 90s, can’t remember which. But Nobsy, that hoodlum, he decides he can just hop over and rub himself all over the laptop. And so the volume gets all weird. And Alex, he just laughs and tilts the screen so we can actually see a little more than Nobsy and his disgusting little fake-innocent face. I know you know exactly what you’re doing you nasty little fur-ball. And then that was that. I ended up falling asleep, and Alex just sort of stayed on my bed. Least I think he did, because he was obviously sitting there when I woke up sometime in the afternoon. “Oh you’re up?” Yes, Alex. My eyes are open. But at the time my brain couldn’t function at all, so instead I just rolled over on top of his lap and moaned. And then we watched that 80’s film about that marshmallow monster or something. Alex picked it. I dunno why he watches those movies. Don’t think I ever will either.

9:07 AM. The volume starts playing again on his laptop. It certainly has to do with Nobsy, because I hear that wretched cat meowing and Alex laughing and hey-ing and shuffles and cat bounces. And now I already feel old, because I hear a very familiar, “As if!” among the meows and thudding. Alex laughs again, says something along the lines of, “Mr. Nobs!” or “Oh you!”, instead of cursing at that filthy pussy. The footsteps come back up the stairs, instead of down and up and all around. Although it’s needless to say, I finally have a mini chance of sleeping (I’ve got perpetual jerk tendencies. I can’t really help it). The movie is still playing, and I can feel him at the door. I moan, loudly, mainly because I do not want to watch a 90’s movie with a premature Rudd Paul. Or is it Paul Rudd? I can’t remember, it sounds good either way. As in, he’s still the 90’s heartthrob of literally everyone, regardless of whether his name is Paul or Rudd. “Hey, you up?” He’s at the door with that movie, and that cat. I think I know what that book is about now, the one about hating cats? It’s about all of us—minus Alex— and Nobsy. I moan a yes, and I feel him hesitate. I can just play it out exactly in my head. Him, standing there, then glancing over at Mr. Nobs. And then, him, just waiting. It’s going to be a long wait. Just like yesterday. But today, it was a longer wait. He slowly cleared his throat as Mr. Nobs began to lick himself. Yes, that’s how long Jude was taking. A cat’s nine live’s— as undeserving as he is for all nine of them— worth of patience was running short, and he just stared as that movie still played. I could feel him take a breath, and smile. Why I feel Alex’s smile, I’ll never know. You just can. Or more so, I just can. Just don’t ask, it’s one of those things where the more you think about it, the weirder it gets.

9:19 AM. Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.