By the time I was home after getting my car and getting the things I needed for food, which was mostly just some pasta fixings like sauce and what not, it was almost six. Traffic had hit hard and I had sat there for nearly an hour. I'd texted Amber most of the time, the girl on her way back from a track and field meet in another city.

I carried the bags into the house, my arms feeling like lead. I set them in the kitchen, starting to pull everything out to make it all, leaving a few pots pans and bowls out. I walked around the house, fixing little things and straightening pillows and such. After fifteen minutes of this, I thought I might fall asleep on my feet, so I laid down on the couch. I crossed my arms over my face, my head feeling a little light. Just a short nap.

I felt groggy as I heard someone say my name. "...Jackson?" a masculine voice said and my eyes fluttered open. I squinted up at Max as he leaned over me. He smiled and I felt my cheeks redden as i realized that I'd fallen asleep and now a very cute guy was in my house... I sounded like a twelve year old...

I sat up rather quickly, this resulting in my head bumping lightly into Max's and I held my head. "Sorry," he chuckled, rubbing his cheek where I'd hit him.

"Sorry," I said, blushing as I ran my hand through my hair to fix it from it's probably messy state. "You let yourself in?" I asked, rising from the couch and slipping my shoes on.

He looked slightly concerned. "I hope that was fine? The door was unlocked and your text said it was fine."

I nodded. "No, yeah, it's fine," I said, sticking my hands in my pockets for a moment. I wondered if I looked too scrawny or thin? Why did it matter?! "Is it just you?" I asked while looking toward the kitchen where I could hear someone.

"Oh right!" Max said while turning. "Morgan rode with me to get here. Saves on Uber." he smiled. "She found the pasta and started cooking. I told her to wait but she insisted," he said.

I looked down at my watch, seeing it was already close to eight. "Where is everyone else?" I asked, a little confused. Hadn't we said seven?

Max chuckled. "They're awful with times. They'll probably get here about eight forty already having eaten dinner. Morgan's just cooking for the three of us." he said.

I nodded, walking into the kitchen with the boy. I saw a girl at the stove, whistling as she cooked. I sat down at the counter. "Want any help... Morgan?" I said with a question on her name.

She waved a hand at me. "I'm good, pasta's kind of my thing," she said and continued stirring whatever she was cooking. I could smell sausage and garlic.

"Morgan's family owns a restaurant," Max said while grabbing a soda from the counter from one of the grocery bags. I'd forgotten to put some of it away. 

I looked at her, smiling. "Where?" 

She shrugged. "Manhatten. It's been in our family since my dad was a kid, but it's not one of those under-managed family owned places; we have professional cooks that come in and the waiting list is nearly a month out for anyone who calls."

My eyes widened. "Wow, that's... impressive," I said, and she simply shrugged. I looked at Max, swallowing and trying to think of what to say to continue the conversation. "What do your parents do?" I asked. 

He took a sip from his drink, seeming to think about it. "They're both doctors, meaning they're always busy." He chuckled and I smiled. 

"Same with me. My parents have been overseas for a while now," I said, leaning over the kitchen counter and grabbing my cup from next to the sink. I wasn't messy, I just left it there for convenience. "They work for this big company, well they're co CEOs with their partner, a good friend of theirs they helped start it." I filled the glass. "They make a lot. They like more material things, besides each other, if you couldn't tell." I laughed a little, gesturing around at the house. 

"We can tell," Max said, smiling. "I'm guessing you go on a lot of trips? We also saw a garage I'm guessing you have ten Teslas?" He raised his eyebrows. 

I found myself blushing. I don't know why, but talks about money always made me uncomfortable. Maybe it was because people had bullied me before about it, saying things like I deserved it because I had money. "We don't have ten Teslas," I said, rolling my eyes a little. "I have a Bugatti though," I mumbled into my glass as Max grinned. I felt comfortable with these two. I looked over at Max out of the corner of my eye, seeing him smirking back. I nearly choked on my water. 

"You okay?" Max asked, laughing. Morgan rolled her eyes at the two of us. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said while setting my cup down and brushing the droplets of water off of my shirt. "So pasta. What kind of sauce?" 

"Pesto," she said, and I watched as she threw a few cloves of garlic into the pan, put the lid on, and then turned to us with a pleased smile on her face. I got the sense she wasn't one to talk up a storm. "It'll all be ready in a few minutes. Can you guys pull out a few plates?" 

"Just the three of us?" I asked and she nodded. I went to the cabinet that had the plates and pulled a three out and passed them to Max. I hadn't eaten dinner with three people--I didn't really count the doughnut dinner the other day with Whennerholm and his daughter--in a while. "Napkins, forks, knives, glasses..." I said to myself as I walked around the kithcen, dancing and dodging past Morgan as she did her final things with the food and pulled it off. I tossed her two hot mits so she could put the pan witht he sauce and the pot with the pasta on the table. 

"Where should we eat?" Max asked, standing awkwardly with the plates and other utensils I'd given him. 

"The dining room is through that door and the lightswitch is next to the painting on the wall," I said, pulling a pitcher of ice tea I'd left in the fridge. I followed them into the dining room, getting a little too excite about eating dinner with friends. I took a breath and tried to tone down my smile when Max and Morgan grinned at me. 

"Let's eat!" Morgan said.