Chapter 28: Chapter Fourteen-1

Chapter Fourteen The first thing I notice when I wake up is the empty space next to me. Where’s Lee? I run my hands over the empty space—my hands getting caught in the tangled sheets. He really shouldn’t be out of bed: he’s sick. Groaning, I get out of bed. I don’t want to get out of bed, though. I mean, who would leave the warmth of the soft covers just to get out in the freezing outside. I must’ve fallen asleep at some point during the movie. I suddenly hear a guitar playing. I wrap my sweatshirt around me tighter as I make my way to the living room. The tune gets louder. Is Lee playing guitar? That seems so… weird. To confirm my thought, I tiptoe into the living room where Lee’s sitting—his back to me—and his fingers strumming the guitar while he softly sings. “Everything that don’t make sense about me, makes sense when I’m with you,” Lee sings. I think I know this song. It’s so familiar. I try to place the thought. Lee continues singing. “I wanna wrap you up, wanna kiss your lips, I… wanna make you feel wanted,” he sings. “I wanna call you mine, wanna hold your hand forever. Never let you forget it.” And then I know. Wanted by Hunter Hayes—one of my ultimate favorite songs. I must’ve made some sort of noise because Lee stops mid-way through a word. The guitar stops and he turns to me, his eyes widening. I take a step back—as if I can still hide so he can keep playing because honestly, his voice is actually good. “What’re you doing?” Lee asks, narrowing his eyes down at me. “When did you get here?” I think he’s more embarrassed than mad. His cheeks are turning a bit red. “J-Just now,” I stutter. He gets up with his guitar and heads to his room to put it away. I follow him. “You sing really good, you know?” Lee puts his guitar in his closet before turning to me. I expect him to say something close to, “I know,” but he actually says, “Thanks.” I’m taken back. Lee has manners? Since when? He heads to the kitchen. The orange, afternoon shine is radiating the room. I bet it’s around three. That means I must’ve slept more than two hours. Lee makes himself a sandwich. “Want one?” “Yeah,” I reply as I take a seat. “Hey, why didn’t you wake me up?” “What do you mean?” “I slept over a couple hours, and you were sick. Something could’ve happened to you while I was asleep,” I argue. “I’m not even that sick anymore. The fever’s gone down and all I have is a cough and a couple of sneezes. Stop worrying. If anything, you’re acting like my girlfriend,” Lee says nonchalantly. It doesn’t affect him but it makes my heart pound a little faster. “Whatever.” I try to sound cool as possible. “So, when’d you learn guitar? I didn’t take you for a sensitive type of guy who played guitar.” “Well, before I had to take over the business, I wanted to be a guitarist. I even had a band in college. It was amazing. A couple of my friends and me started up our own band and we had gigs.” I’ve never seen Lee so excited talking about something. And then I remember he’s twenty. He was pushed into the real world faster than anyone else. He was pushed into business—without choice or consent—but just because he had to. He had to give up everything for his family. It was something I probably never would’ve had the guts to do. “What was the name of your band?” I ask, intrigued. I rest my face on the palm of my hand as Lee continues making us sandwiches. “Red Burritos,” Lee replies, scratching the back of his head. I break out laughing—like full out laughing. I was toppling over my seat, clutching my burning stomach as I laugh. Why would they name it that? It’s such a hilarious name. If anything, I would’ve thought it was a restaurant. “Red—Burrito?” I repeat in between laughs. “W-Why would you name it R-Red Burritos?” I continue chuckling, but stop when I see Lee glaring straight at me. I start coughing to make it look like I wasn’t laughing. “Yes, Red Burrito,” Lee says, clearly irritated that I thought the name was hilarious. “I didn’t pick the name, okay? My stupid band mates did.” He pushes a plate to me. The sandwich was cut in half. Lee took one half. “Hey!” I protest. “Why can’t I have the whole thing?” “Because I’m too lazy to make another one. Besides, you shouldn’t ruin your appetite for dinner, but  I hardly doubt anything could ruin your appetite,” Lee says as he bites his sandwich. “Hey!” I protest again. “You’re so rude.” “Why thank you,” he says. I groan. He’s so frustrating. How could anyone put up with him? Instead of arguing again—which would be pointless—I grab my half of the sandwich. It is grilled cheese, my favorite. My anger subsides as I chew on my sandwich. “Lee,” I say. “You should play a song for me.” He scoffs. “Yeah? And why’s that?” “Because you’re a good person,” I reply. “Right?” “No,” he replies, chuckling. “You even said yourself that I was a rude person. I’m definitely singing for you, either—out of all the people.” “Please?” I plead. “I’ll sing with you. And I’m leaving for Brownwood anyways. This could be my farewell present!” “Last time you said it would be the last time I saw you but here you are now. You just keep coming back,” Lee says. “So therefore, your statement is invalid.” “You made me come!” I argue. “I left my home just to come to you, man! My mom would kill me if she noticed I was gone. See, I’m such a good friend. I sacrificed my week for you.” “Friends?” Lee raises an eyebrow. “Since when were we friends?” “Since we had each other’s backs,” I respond. “I mean, you had my back with Karen and I had your back with Madam Jin. That’s what friends do.” I nudge his shoulder. “I bet I’m one of the best friends you’ve ever had.”