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The Afton House
Mike opened his eyes, the sun’s early rays piercing through the gaps between his blinds and painting a stripe across Cassidy’s face. Her dark black hair was down, fanning over her pillow. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of her peaceful expression. So different from the feisty girl I love.
Carefully, making sure not to disturb her, he traced his fingers along the curve of her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin. If he was completely honest, he sometimes enjoyed these quiet moments more than the ones filled with her playful swats and sarcastic quips.
Of course, Mike loved her either way. His grin widened. He could imagine what she’d say if she could hear his thoughts and was awake. ‘Mike, this is a level of cringe more cheesy than usual.’
As if in spite of him, Cassidy stirred slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. Her eyes remained closed, but she hummed softly in her sleep. Mike shook his head affectionately. I’m such a sentimental ol’ fool, aren’t I?
Seeing a smile on Cassidy’s face was like seeing the sun after a storm. Oh, I could put that in the poem I’m writing her! It was the rare, beautiful moments with Cassidy Mike cherished the most.
“Mike…” Cassidy sighed softly in her sleep, content. It was the sweetest sound Mike had ever heard. His heart swelled with warmth, and he leaned in, brushing the stray strands of hair in her face out of the way, then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
He knew Cassidy wasn’t a morning person, and after the last time he’d tried to wake her up, he should’ve learned his lesson (his cheek was still tender, and that was seven months ago). He hadn’t. He gently nudged her shoulder, whispering, “It’s time to wake up, sunshine.”
She didn’t stir.
Mike got more insistent. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tickled her armpits.
Cassidy jolted awake, her eyes shooting open. For a bare second she looked around the room with wild eyes, before her gaze landed on Mike, who was grinning like Cheshire Cat himself. Then her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Michael Afton, did you wake me up?” She growled, pulling herself away from him and the pair of hands he’d tickled her with.
Mike watched Cassidy’s sleepy haze turn into annoyance without a reaction (he wasn’t scared), watching her blue eyes flash with the beginnings of a morning temper. He couldn’t help but find her adorable, even if she was mad at him. He gave her a playful smirk and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Mayyyyyyyyyyybe.” He replied, stretching out the word for maximum irritation. He braced himself for the expected retribution, his heart racing with anticipation. (So he was a little scared.)
He just loved playing with her nerves too much to stop.
Cassidy glared at him, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. She huffed, pushing herself even further away from him. “Jerk.” She grumbled, upset.
Mike watched as Cassidy sat up, her hair disheveled. He knew he’d pay for his early morning antics, but that was half of the fun! It was almost a routine. He’d play with fire, get burned, and have a laugh privately later.
“What are you going to do about it, grumpypants?” He teased, his voice low and playful.
Cassidy’s eyes widened in feigned offense, her lips curling into a smirk. “Are you doubting me, mister?” She demanded, pushing her hair out of her face and leaning back against the headboard. Her expression brightened, and she gave her boyfriend a small smirk. “I’m going to break up with you, Mike!” She announced.
Mike’s hand flew to his chest as if he’d just been shot- but not with one of Cupid’s arrows. “No!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening with playful horror. “Not my heart!” He clutched at his chest dramatically, having a mock-heart attack. “How could you, Cassidy? After everything we’ve been through?” He gave himself a dramatic, pained tone, and slumped down onto his pillow, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “Please,” he begged in ‘despair’, “don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”
Cassidy’s smirk grew wider, doubling in size. She grabbed Mike by his collar and leaned close, pressing her nose against his as she whispered, “it’s far too late, Michael Afton. I’ve been secretly planning my escape for months now.” She paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before pressing on.
“I’ve found someone new. Someone who knows how to treat a girl right in the morning. Someone who lets me have my beauty sleep. Someone who is both submissive and hot.” She paused again for dramatic effect. “Guess what else? He’s rich, too.”
Mike couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing, deep and long. Cassidy was perhaps the funniest girl he’d met. Although Charlie was definitely more energetic. As absurd as Cassidy’s statement was, he found it hilarious how playful she could be.
He grabbed her, pulling her closer and trapping her in his embrace. “O-oh… no,” he said, his voice shaking as he tried to speak between chuckles. “Not my… Cas-ssidy. You… can’t l-leave me for so-ome billionaire who follows your… instructions a-as obediently as possible. He tilted her head up to his level and pulled her into a kiss.
She kissed him back, ehr arms snaking around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair. When they broke apart, she was looking like she was ready to tackle whatever this morning, and whatever it threw at her. Heck, she could probably tackle me if she felt like it! Mike thought.
“I guess you’ll have to find some way to win me back then, Mister Afton.” She declared.
Mike smirked. “Oh, that I can do, babe. I guarantee you, however rich your new boyfriend is, I’m much more fun.” He said. “Submissive people are boring, gal. I mean, just look at little Davey! All he does is flail around and whine when he’s around me.”
“Isn’t he usually in a headlock when he’s around you?” Cassidy countered, raising her chin defiantly. “I feel like that might be factoring into the whole ‘whining around you’ deal.”
Mike stroked his chin, pretending to ponder her words, and a very distracted part of him wondered what he’d look like if he had a beard to touch instead of a five o’clock shadow. The rest of him was focused on coming up with a response that would make her laugh.
He decided to settle with a light joke. “Nah. It’s because he’s submissive.” He declared. “If you stick with me, though, I’ll make myself rich through hard work instead of inheritance, we can live wherever you want, and best of all, you’ll be with a bad boy.”
“And… I’m won over.” Cassidy said. She batted her eyelashes at him. “Sooooooo… how are you going to make it up to me that you ruined my morning?” She cooed, snuggling against his chest.
Mike wrapped his arms around her waist. “We could just lay here. Relaxing. It’s not like there’s anybody here to ruin our good time-”
A sudden knock on the door made them both jump, the spell of their little game shattering like a dropped teacup.
I spoke too soon.
“Mike?” Mike rolled his eyes. It was his brother, Dave. The gentle, shy, and sometimes annoying kid had probably been up for a while already. He was the opposite of Cassidy, and preferred to wake up at five in the morning. Mike’s mother liked to joke about how easy it was to wake Dave on a day where he was sleeping in (for once).
‘All I have to do is tap him on the shoulder and he bolts to his feet, already dressed,’ she would say.
Mike didn’t know how his little brother did it.
“What do you want?” He called out, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. If he really wanted to ruin some bonding time, he could’ve at least done it at a reasonable time. Instead, he specifically breaks up my would-be-favorite moments, when Cassidy is hyper-playful and flirty.
“Mike, I’m so hungry,” he whined. “Could you guys make some breakfast? Eggs, pancakes, bacon? You two are better cooks than I am.”
Mike sighed and slowly got up, cracking his back. He knew Dave well enough to understand the boy didn’t intend to suck up his fun. He just had horrible, horrible timing.
Mike walked over to the door and opened it to find his younger brother swaying there, eyes bloodshot and hair sticking up in every direction. The kid looked like he hadn’t slept at all, which would be quite the surprise, since Dave was always talking about getting the recommended amount of sleep or more every day.
“What the heck happened to you?” Mike teased. “I couldn’t recognize you for a second. I thought you were a vampire, or the boogeyman.”
“What happened to me? Charlie happened to me.” Dave grumbled, closing his drooping eyelids and massaging his temples.
Mike chuckled knowingly. “What did your girlfriend do now?” He asked. He knew Charlie very well. She was like a second sister to him, and her energy was infectious. It wasn’t hard to guess that she’d probably kept Dave up all night with her late-night giggling fits or one of her wild schemes.
Dave’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at the mention of Charlie. He stumbled over his words, trying to protest. “N-no, she’s not my girlfriend!” He mumbled, avoiding Mike’s gaze. Mike basked in Dave’s embarrassment. His brother wasn’t usually the flustered kind of guy. “And what happened is she was being herself. Y’know, staying up until four. In. The. Morning. Fooling me into staying up with her. Getting drunk on Root Beer.”
At that, Cassidy couldn’t help but pipe up in a disbelieving tone. “Drunk… on Root Beer?” She echoed, giving Dave an incredulous eyebrow-raise. “Is that even possible?” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the blankets sliding down to reveal her pajama-clad figure.
“I mean, I know it’s got bubbles and all, but it’s hardly the party beverage of choice. You don’t see people playing ‘Root Beer Pong’, do you?” She stretched her arms over her head, smacking her lips together.
Dave’s eyes widened like twin moons when he heard Cassidy’s skeptical question. He looked at her with a mix of horror and incredulity, as if she had just suggested blowing up their house. “If you were there, you’d understand what I’m talking about. Trust me, she was drunk on Root Beer.” He shook his head, acting traumatized. “I’ll never forget last night.”
Mike chuckled at his brother’s antics. “If you say so, buddy.” He teased. “But I doubt it was that bad. You’re making it sound like Charlie lost her mind or something.”
Dave looked at Mike with a pleading gaze that was almost comical in its sincerity. “It was,” he insisted, his voice high-pitched. “You wouldn’t believe the things she said and did!” He paused for a moment. “She kept tickling me, giggling, flopping around…” he blushed a deep shade of red. “She even pecked me on the cheek!” He exclaimed.
“And you’ll see once you go downstairs. She’s still not sober.”
Mike snorted. “Alright, come on. It looks like it’s time to go make breakfast… and show my little brother how paranoid he is.” He told Cassidy, holding out his hands to carry her. She climbed into his arms, allowing him to carry her bridal-style.
“So, Dave, did you say she kissed you?” Mike asked as they made their way downstairs. Dave didn’t respond to Mike’s question. He just kept trudging behind the couple, his eyes on the floor.
Mike couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for his younger brother. The poor kid looked conflicted.
“I…” Dave finally muttered when they reached the kitchen, “I don’t know if she meant it or not.”
Setting Cassidy down gently, Mike turned to face Dave, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Look at me,” he said, his volume dropping to a gentle, understanding tone. “You’re fourteen. You’re in the weird, awkward phase of adolescence. So when your best friend kisses you on the cheek, the same one you’ve been crushing on for months now, you’re allowed to get flustered.”
He searched Dave’s eyes, seeing the uncertainty reflected back at him. He sighed. “You really want to know if she likes you back, don’t you?”
Dave nodded eagerly.
“Well, kiss her. She’ll either eagerly kiss you back, or angrily push you away.”
Dave snorted. “It’s not that simple.” He grumbled.
Mike leaned in closer to Dave, whispering so only he could hear. “It worked for me.” With a knowing wink, he nodded towards Cassidy, who was busy rummaging through the fridge, seemingly oblivious to their conversation. Though I bet she’s clinging to every word I’m saying.
“You have to go for it, buddy.” Mike continued casually. “You know how she is- even if she somehow hasn’t fallen in love with you, she’d still be really nice about turning you down. Just be confident.” He left Dave to ponder his words, and sauntered over to Cassidy, his mind already racing with plans to get her to crack a smile again.
Cassidy pulled out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon, turning to face Mike. “Y’know, you’d be a great father.” She said. “I practically got goosebumps. That speech back there might’ve been the smartest sentences to pour out of your mouth.”
Mike smirked at her. “I’m just full of surprises, I guess.” He said with a shrug.
Cassidy placed the ingredients on the kitchen counter with a flourish, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yeah, although they’re not usually the good kind.” She teased. “And I recommend you keep your distance from me. You tend to get distracted around me. I doubt Dave would appreciate burnt bacon and pancakes that look as if Picasso himself had made them.”
Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “And if you don’t finish breakfast soon, Dave is going to get even hungrier than he already is. I doubt you want that. He’s a growing boy, and you know how much they consume, don’t you?”
Mike nodded in agreement. “Fine, fine.” He murmured, grabbing the pack of bacon from the fridge and the frying pan from the stove. He knew the look in her eye; she was itching to let her morning crankiness out, and she was going to use her culinary skills to do just that.
Mike wasn’t going to stand in her way. If she wanted to whip up something amazing, she could do that. Plus, those homemade pancakes of hers are mini-masterpieces.
So, while she measured and whisked the pancake batter on the countertop, Mike took to the stove, far from her location, laying out the bacon and filling the room with the sound of sizzling meat and the smell of the delicious bacon.
Then, Mike registered a new sound. The sound of a sleepy groan, coming from the living room. It was definitely Charlie, and the voice that followed the groan was clearly Dave’s. “Hey, Charlie. Are you awake?” He whispered. “We’re going to be having-”
Charlie sprang to life from her spot on the couch, starling Mike, who’s attention was diverted from the bacon to the girl’s silhouette. “Davey!” She squealed, booping him on the nose. She snorted, struggling to contain a laugh. “How long was I asleep?” She couldn’t hold back the laugh any longer, and began giggling uncontrollably.
Maybe Dave hadn’t been lying when he said Charlie was drunk on Root Beer, Mike thought. He could confidently say Charlie’s behavior wasn’t very in-character.
He glanced back at the bacon, figuring that a few moments unobserved wouldn’t hurt. He left it to its fate and moved to the living room to greet Charlie.
“Yo-you’ve been a-asleep for twenty-five m-minutes,” Dave stuttered out shakily. He looked more anxious than usual, and Mike assumed it was because of the memory of the peck Charlie gave him earlier.
When Mike got closer to Charlie and could see her face and not just a shadow, he chuckled. She was quite the spectacle. It appeared as if a tornado had picked her up and dropped her in the middle of the living room. Her pajamas were inside out, her hair was sticking up in every direction, her eyes were more bloodshot than Dave’s and super wide, too. Yet despite all these features and more, she was grinning ear to ear, bouncing over to him like… a yo-yo attached to a hyperactive puppy.
Mike internally patted himself on the back for coming up with such a clever analogy.
“You seem really calm this morning.” He said sarcastically. Charlie just giggled in response, throwing her arms around him in a tight bear hug. “Hi, Mikey!” She squealed. She let go of him, hopping from foot to foot. “Is it just me, or is today, like, so…” she trailed off, bouncing back over to Dave.
“Pick me up.” She commanded, clenching and unclenching her fists at him.
Dave looked seconds away from fainting. Mike had never seen all the colors of the rainbow on somebody’s face before, but here Dave was, his face cycling through each and every one. “C-carry you?” He repeated. “I don’t know if I-”
Charlie didn’t wait for Dave to respond to her command. Instead, she took a running leap towards him. Mike watched in awe as she threw herself at his younger brother.
In all the history of stupid things I’ve witnessed in my life, this may perhaps be the dumbest one I’ve seen so far.
Dave’s arms shot up to catch her, but the boy wasn’t known for his strength, and at 141.3 pounds, Charlie wasn’t exactly light. Charlie collided into him, sending him stumbling backwards. He tilted down and fell hard onto the carpet, Charlie landing on top of his stomach. “Oops!” She exclaimed. “Are you all right, Davey?”
Dave stayed on the ground for a while, trying to catch his breath. Mike laughed, even though he knew he should be more concerned for his brother’s well-being. The whole situation was so… ridiculous. “Dave, you okay?” He called out, entertained.
“No.” Dave whimpered.
Charlie pulled him to his feet. “I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. Twice.” He said, his voice shaky. He composed himself, brushing off his clothes and combing his hair with his fingers. Mike noticed that even in his permanently flustered state, he couldn’t take his eyes off Charlie, who was now standing in front of him. “No more jumping on your best friend.” He scolded.
Charlie’s bottom lip jetted out into a dramatic pout. “Awww, but it’s fun!” She whined. Dave crossed his arms, waiting expectantly. “Fine! I won’t jump on you anymore. Happy?” She grumbled.
Her face brightened. “Hey, do you still have more Root Beers?” She asked Mike.
Mike observed Charlie with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression. “We had four six-packs yesterday morning,” he informed her. “But I think your little session last night might’ve taken a toll on our supplies.”
Charlie brushed his concerns aside. “I held myself back from finishing them all.” She said casually, skipping over to the fridge. She flung open the door and her gaze raked the shelves, searching for more Root Beer to consume. “Score!” She pulled out two cans of Root Beer, reading the nutrition label with exaggerated scrutiny, her nose scrunching up.
“39 grams of sugar?!” She exclaimed. “That’s an outrage!”
She shrugged. “Oh well. Might as well finish what I started.” She flipped the tab and chugged the first can, closely followed by the second.
Dave facepalmed, sinking onto the couch. “I give up,” he groaned, shaking his head in defeat.
Charlie didn’t reply, turning her attention over to Cassidy. She hopped over to the stovetop, which Cassidy had claimed while Mike was away, and peered over her shoulder, watching Cassidy flip a perfectly golden pancake. Mike’s stomach rumbled in anticipation.
“What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” She giggled, trying to tickle Cassidy’s armpit much like Mike had done earlier.
Unlike when Mike tickled her armpit, however, Cassidy was less forgiving. “Charlie, go back to bothering your boyfriend.” She growled, slapping the girl’s hand away. “I’m trying to cook here, and you’re going to get in my way.” She glared at Charlie. Mike knew that look; it was the one she reserved for when she was about to blow a fuse.
Charlie giggled for the umpteenth time that morning, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper into Cassidy’s ear. “One, my boyfriend said he gave up. And three, I think somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” she teased, burping. Mike flinched. He doubted Cassidy would even be okay with him doing that to her. She definitely wasn’t okay with Charlie doing it.
Cassidy’s grip on the spatula tightened, her knuckles going pale. She turned to look at Charlie, her eyes narrowed into slits. “Look,” she hissed, “I’m not in the mood for your nonsense right now.” Mike knew that tone too. It was the very last warning before-
Charlie booped Cassidy’s nose. “I’d offer you a Root Beer to relax, but I think I drank them all.” She confessed. Charlie booped Cassidy’s nose a second time. Then a third. “You forgot to do your hair.” She pointed out, gesturing at the top of Cassidy’s head.
Mike watched as Cassidy’s expression shifted from ‘about to snap’ to ‘snap’. She spun on her heel, the spatula in her hand pointing at Charlie like a sword. “You know what?” She began, her voice rising. “I’ve had it with you.” She took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes flashing. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m trying to cook breakfast!” With each syllable Cassidy’s voice got sharper than the last. “If you can’t respect that, then get out!”
The house fell silent except for the hiss of sizzling bacon.
Charlie booped Cassidy on the nose again. “So I was right! You did wake up on the wrong side of the bed!”
Mike and Dave exchanged looks, their eyes wide.
Mike saw the fire grow in Cassidy’s eyes and spread throughout her whole body. She set down the spatula. “That’s it.” She snarled. “You want to be a brat? Cook breakfast yourself!” With that, she stormed past the girl, out of the kitchen, and collapsed on the couch, turning on the TV, clearly upset.
If Charlie was her usual self, she would’ve apologized. She wasn’t herself at the current time, though. She cracked her knuckles, squared her shoulders, and rolled her head. “I’ve got this, guys.” She promised, stepping in front of the oven.
Mike went over to Cassidy’s side, sitting next to her wordlessly. She leaned her head against his chest, and he began stroking her hair. “Want to talk about how you feel?” He asked her.
She took a deep breath, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I just… you know I’m not a morning person. And that I have trouble keeping my emotions in check. Me and Charlie would usually mix fine, but she’s being pushy from all that sugar or whatever Dave’s explanation for her behavior was. So I can’t handle her right now.”
“Guys?” Charlie whispered lightly.
Mike nodded, his eyes never leaving Cassidy’s. He didn’t acknowledge Charlie, instead focusing solely on the girl he loved. “I get it, Cass,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Mornings are tough, and Charlie’s… well, right now she’s Charlie plus too much Root Beer.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you just relax here for a bit? I’ll help with breakfast. Hopefully Charlie didn’t set the kitchen on fire.” He joked.
“Guys?!” Charlie repeated.
Mike’s gaze shifted to Charlie now, and he gasped. “Oh shit!” He exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Charlie, what did you do?!”
The pancakes they’d been so meticulously preparing, along with the bacon, were now a charred mess. The smell of burnt breakfast permeated through the room. But that wasn’t the biggest issue. The biggest issue was the fact the oven had (somehow) become a blazing inferno.
Dave stared in horror at the oven, frozen in fear, while Charlie blew at the flames (which didn’t appear to be working).
Cassidy’s eyes snapped to the kitchen too, and she bolted from the couch like a rocket. She let out a bloodcurling shriek, horrified. “Dave, grab a fire extinguisher!” She bellowed.
Dave blinked, finally coming to his senses. He looked around wildly. “What?” He yelped. “A… a fi-fire extinguisher?” He stuttered. “We don’t have one!”
Cassidy’s shoulders slumped. “Of course you don’t have one.” She groaned. “This is the worst morning ever!”
Mike’s mind raced. Who could help in a situation like this one before him?
Dad!
“Hold on, everyone!” He shouted. “I’m going to go get Dad!”
* * * * *
The Emily House
Henry rocked his chair back and forth gently as he read his book, feeling calmer and more at peace than what he was used to. The evening sun painted the living room walls with a warm, golden glow, and the smell of fresh cookies from the kitchen reminded him of his wife’s sweet embrace. Baking those was a great idea.
The doorbell’s sudden chime pierced through the serenity, jolting him from his thoughts. He placed a bookmark in his novel and sighed, rising to answer the door. “Probably Charlie, finally coming home hours later than she promised.” He grumbled.
He approached the door with a mix of irritation and concern, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he took a deep breath, steeling himself for an energetic bear hug (painful but welcome). He swung the door open, expecting to see his usual smiling daughter, but instead found her looking like she’d had a sugar crash, which wouldn’t surprise him. I need to force her to start cutting back on how much sugar she consumes a day.
Her eyes were wide as saucers, bloodshot, and dark circles framed them like a pair of bruises. “Charlie,” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What happened to you this time?”
“I got drunk on Root Beer. But that’s not what’s important.” Charlie said, her voice urgent. “Yesterday, I had a sleepover at Dave’s, which you obviously knew about, and this morning I-”
Henry closed his eyes, his mind racing with every possible worst-case scenario. “What happened?” He asked. He leaned against the doorframe, searching her eyes for a hint of what she was about to say. “Please don’t tell me somebody’s in the hospital.” He begged.
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Dad, you’re majorly overreacting! I’m fourteen and responsible! Of course nobody’s in the hospital!” She paused awkwardly. “But… I may have accidentally burned down Uncle William’s house while I was sugar high and they’re going to need to live with us for a while.”