A Borrower's Anthology

Sweets

Warm, freshly baked pastries have a way of bringing people together, Michelle learns.

...

Mrs. Henderson had made oatmeal butterscotch cookies, and Michelle was starving.

She'd been hungry for many things as of late, but the main course came down to Philip's reasons for not cornering her yet in some way. She really wanted to know why, yet that pang hadn't been spurred on by necessity. She'd given him plenty of opportunities too; he knew where her hideouts were, what angles she was able to watch him from, some of the things they borrowed, and apparently when she stirred at night. While his routine behavior hadn't completely shaken from its foundations, Michelle noticed little things had changed in him just as they had of her. And the most they'd done was catch each other from afar and wave.

She hated having to keep such knowledge as pertinent as her discovery from her best friend, but she knew what Nicholas' thoughts would have been: how could she have let this go on as long as it had? Not to mention he would have sided with her parents in a heartbeat about the situation. He may have been open to entertaining her whimsies when it came to nabbing some coin or sticking with him as he learned guitar, but she knew he was warier than the two of them about human intention. It didn't matter if they knew of their personalities when interacting with other humans--things could change.

So, with regret, she had to construct a well-crafted fib when she turned down his invitation to go venturing for change in Darius' room again. She told him she needed to focus on rearranging her room to make more space for her treasures. It wasn't totally off the mark-she did need to. Except she'd waited until he'd gone off to nap, peeking into his room just to be doubly sure he'd lost himself to his dreams. Then, she slipped out into the expansive openness that was the Henderson household.

Instead of poking her head out from Philip's room, Michelle had traveled her way toward the living room of their house. The air smelled of warm cinnamon and sugar. Her fingers clung to the disrupted wall as she looked at the two forms sitting against the couch. Their distant forms almost looked as unintimidating and innocent as the smell wrapping around them. She identified the fluffy head of Elizabeth, especially the ribbon barrettes she had attached to her ponytail. Next to Elizabeth, she presumed was Darius, if the video game controller in his hand was any indication. From head alone, sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between him and his older brother when faced with the back of his hair. They both were blonde-both somewhat disheveled, like her own. Her only guessing point was Philip liked to play his games more on his computer or, when he played together with Darius, in his bedroom.

After her quick sweep of the room, Michelle ducked back into the panel, using the pillars behind the scene of their home to carry her over to her other desired destination. The familiar sight of Philip at his worktable greeted her as she climbed out atop the dresser to his wardrobe, tilting the panel up against her exit. She wasn't incognizant of the way his room smelled of his mother's touch either.

As usual, he was at his laptop, but the sound of his fingers striking the keys slowed to a crawl. He was getting better at listening for her, though Michelle supposed she wasn't making an effort to make herself that quiet. Not for him. While he barely peeked over his shoulder, she saw his ear tip with his head. It angled at her.

You can do this, you've already done it once, she told herself. Stop overthinking it.

Heading toward the edge of the dresser, Michelle grabbed a hold of the long, electrical wire spanning down from the television down to the floor, swinging her way until she reached the coarse jungle that was his carpet. All the while of her trek, her eyes glued themselves onto his legs; they hardly shifted to turn in her direction, but she did observe one jiggle up and down at a moderate pace. It didn't take her long before she stood behind the more stationary leg of his chair. She cleared her throat.