11. Such a Cute Little Thing

                                    

                                          
Mae
                          
I have never dropped so many things in one pull. Truly an embarrassing moment.
                          
It all happened so fast, but there was hoodie guy, in all his glory, holding a baseball bat. At first, I was frozen terrified, but when I heard his shaky voice, I knew he wasn't a professional hero. But yet again, I sensed that he wasn't afraid to use his bat. And that did scare me.
                          
I obeyed his order and emptied my pockets, but couldn't help but flinch when he knew I had inside pockets too.
                          
I had to keep something from this ordeal; a little payment for my hard labors. But he wanted that too. I couldn't, so I kicked his side and made my escape. That sounds harsh, now that I think about it, but who could resist such a cute little thing?
                          
My glance shifts to the glass duckling, sitting on my nightstand. It stands only a pinkie's length tall. A pastel pink ribbon hangs around its neck, tying into a little bow at the top. I could never pass that up in a million years. It is the cutest thing I've ever seen and I wasn't going to give it up to that hoodie guy.
                          
I lie awake in bed, hardly able to contain my smile.
                          
Without warning, the sound of the front door closing alerts me. Quiet footsteps trod the wooden floor. I thought everyone was home already. Who could it be? My curiosity burns inside me and I creep out of my bedroom, leaving Karen's soft snores behind me.
                          
I hear the washing machine door closing and then more footsteps.
                          
Making my way to the kitchen, I see Jake holding his hamper, lost in thought. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, looking like a lost puppy.
                          
"Hey, Jake," I whisper and he turns toward me, eyes snapping back to the present.
                          
"Hey." He matches my volume. Noticing my eyes on his hamper, he clears his throat. "Just doing some laundry."
                          
"Oh, okay. I thought you were already home," I stuff my hands into my flannel pockets. "so, I came to investigate the noise."
                          
"Just, um, me on a late-night laundry run." he chuckles, lifting his bag to reveal a large wound on his elbow. Dried blood makes little trails down his arm.
                          
I gasp. "Jake, what happened?"
                          
"Oh." is all he answers, seeming to just remember his bloody mess. It takes him a moment to respond as he processes. "There were nails poked through the chairs at the laundromat. I was the unlucky one that felt like sitting down." he attempts a smile but ends up with a sheepish grimace. "I was just going to take care of it, actually."
                          
I stare at his elbow. "Why were there nails sticking out of the chairs?"
                          
"Beats me." he shrugs.
                          
Without a moment's thought, I take his hand and lead him to the stuff drawer. He leaves his hamper on the floor.
                          
"Well, too bad your title of stuff keeper is revoked. I'm the stuff keeper now, remember? You couldn't even treat that wound if you wanted." I state.
                          
Jake gives a reluctant nod and I pull out the alcohol. I clean the cut as he stares at the floor, deep in thought. I watch his jaw tick, in and out. What could he be thinking?
                          
"Does your cut feel like a cheese sandwich?" I ask, my voice filling the quiet kitchen.
                          
He turns to me with a frown. "You weren't lying when you said you wouldn't let that go."
                          
"Nope," I grin. I begin to wrap his arm with gauze.
                          
The quiet relapses.
                          
"This is a deep cut," I say, trying to fill the void. "I hope it doesn't get infected." I tear the wrapping and place it back into the drawer.