Slammed (Slammed #1)(46)

Unfortunately, Will's house is surprisingly clean for two male inhabitants, so I have to search hard for something to keep me busy. I hit the bathroom first, which is good. I know nine-year-olds don't have very good aim so I start scrubbing. I scrub the toilet, the floors, the shower, the sinks. It's clean.

I move on to the bedrooms where I organize, make beds, re-make beds. Next, I hit the living room where I dust and vacuum. I mop the bathroom floors and wipe down every surface I can find. I end up at the kitchen sink where I wash the only two dirty dishes in the house; mine and Eddie's glasses.

It's almost seven when I hear Will's car pull up. He and the two boys walk in the house and come to a halt when they see me sitting in his living room floor.

"What are you doing?" Caulder asks.

"Alphabetizing," I reply.

"Alphabetizing what?" Will says.

"Everything. First I did the movies, then I did the c.d.'s. Caulder, I did the books in your room. I did a few of your games, but some of those started with numbers so I put the numbers first, then the titles." I point to the piles in front of me. "These are recipes. I found them on top of the fridge. I'm alphabetizing them by category first; like beef, lamb, pork, poultry. Then behind the categories I'm alphabetizing them by-"

"Guys, go to Kel's. Let Julia know you're back," Will says as he continues to watch me.

The boys don't move. They just stare at the recipe cards in front of me.

"Now!" Will yells. They both jerk their eyes away and start back toward the door.

"Your sister's weird," I hear Caulder say as they leave.

Will sits down on the couch in front of me as I continue to alphabetize the recipes.

"You're the teacher," I say. "Should I put 'Baked Potato Soup' behind potato, or soup?"

"Stop," he says. He seems moody.

"I can't stop, silly. I'm halfway finished. If I stop now you won't know where to find…" I grab a random card off the floor. "Jerk Chicken?" It would be that one. I throw the card back in the pile.

Will eyes the living room, then stands and walks into the kitchen. I see him run his finger along the baseboards. Good thing I thought about those. He walks down the hallway and returns a couple of minutes later.

"You color coded my closet?"

He's not smiling. I thought he would be happy.

"Will, it wasn't that hard. You wear like, three different color shirts."

He glides across the living room and bends down; snatching up the recipe cards I've organized into piles.

"Will! Stop! That took me a long time!" I snatch them back out of his hands as fast as he's picking them up.

He finally throws them back in the floor and grabs my wrists and tries to pull me up, but I start kicking at his legs. "Let me go! I'm…not…done!"

He lets go of my hands and I fall back to the floor. I pick up the recipe cards and start re-organizing them back into piles. He completely took me back to square one. I can't even find the 'beef' card. I flip over two cards that are upside down but-

"What the hell!" I scream. I'm suddenly drenched in water.

I look up and Will is standing over me with an empty pitcher in his hand. I lunge forward and start punching at his legs. He backs away as I start hitting at him, trying to get off of the floor.

Why the hell did he just do that? I'm gonna punch him in the face. I stand up and try to hit him but he steps aside and grabs my arm and wraps it around my back. I'm flailing my other arm at him as he pushes me toward the hallway and into the bathroom. The next thing I know, his arms are around me and he lifts me up, pulls the shower curtain back and shoves me in. I'm still trying to punch him but his arms are longer than mine. He holds me against the wall with one arm while he turns the faucet on with the other. A stream of ice cold water splashes across my face. I gasp.

"Jerk! Jackass! Asshole!"

He continues to hold me back as he turns the other faucet on and the water turns warmer.

"Take a shower, Layken! Take a damn shower!" He lets go of me and slams the bathroom door.

I jump out of the shower; my clothes are drenched. I try to open the bathroom door but I can't because he's holding the doorknob from the other side.

"Let me out, Will! Now!" I'm beating on the door and trying to turn the doorknob but it doesn't budge.

"Layken," he calmly responds from the other side of the door. "I'm not letting you out of the bathroom until you take off your clothes, get in the shower, wash your hair, and calm down."

I flip him off. He can't see me of course, but it still feels good. I take off my wet clothes and throw them in the floor, hoping I get something dirty. I climb in the shower. The warm water feels good against my skin. I close my eyes and let the water trickle through my hair and down my face.

Dammit. Will is right again.

***

"I need a towel!" I yell. I've been in the shower well over half an hour. Will has a shower head with a jet setting. I turned it on and focused it on the back of my neck for the majority of the time. It really does relieve tension.

"It's on the sink. So are your clothes," he yells from outside the bathroom.

I pull the curtain back and there is definitely a towel there. And clothes. My clothes. Clothes he obviously just got out of my house, and somehow put in the bathroom. While I was in the shower.