Page 48 of The Baby Dragon Bakery
Lavinia sniffled, acquiescing.
The next day, she visited Theo, bringing her best stuffed animals and her favorite blanket and a variety of books and the cookies that her mother had made. She stayed with him all day, setting up camp in his room, crawling into bed with him. His parents had set up a television in his room, and they played video games and cards and read books.
She tried her best to distract him and make sure he was comfortable, and she did the same thing every day for the next few weeks. She went straight to his house after school, bringing him the classwork he missed, and she stayed until dinner, sometimes even after, the both of them falling asleep together until her parents came to pick her up, waking her.
Funnily enough, even though she practically lived at his house, she hardly saw his parents, and even then, she could see how quiet his house was. She understood a little about why he could get quiet sometimes, too.
She felt a fierce protectiveness of him then, and they became inseparable, and remained that way, even after he got better.
He still had a scar on his knee, and every time she saw it, she was reminded of that time, how much blood there had been. Of course now, looking back, she knew such an injury wouldn’t have killed him, but at the time, being eleven years old, she had truly thought she might lose him.
She and Theo had never fought, so that was the closest she’d ever been to losing him.
Just the thought sent a shiver down her back, and Lavinia turned to look at him beside her, no longer eleven years old but twenty-four. She moved closer, leaning on his shoulder. He slid down on the sofa so she would be more comfortable, tapping his head against hers.
He put a handful of popcorn in his mouth, then offered her the bowl, his gaze still on the movie. His face was lit up with light from the television, a small smile on his face.
“I love this scene,” he said.
“Me too,” she whispered, but she wasn’t looking at the screen—she was looking at him.
Chapter 18
After the movie finished, Theo offered to clean up in the kitchen, since he knew Lavinia had studying to do.
“You’re the best,” Lavinia said, giving him a quick hug. She checked on Biter, who was still asleep in her bassinet, before heading upstairs, leaving him alone.
He didn’t mind; her house was home to him, so being alone here didn’t bother him. He shut the television off and folded the blanket, setting the pillows back into their proper positions on the sofa before switching off the lights in the living room. He went to the kitchen, picking up their plates and glasses from dinner, taking them to the sink.
He washed the dishes, looking out to the backyard from the window above the sink. It was a full moon, and the milky moonlight shone over the trees, making the branches silver. The tree that stuck out to him the most was the apple tree, the fruit ripe and round, while some of the apples had already fallen to the ground.
It made him think of the apple tree in his own backyard—to that day over a decade ago when he’d split open his knee at eleven years old.
Theo wasn’t allowed to climb the apple tree; his parents were very strict about that. They were very strict about a lot of things. There was to be no fooling around or playing inside of the house. Outside, he was only to kick the ball around if he did not hit anything but the net. There would be no climbing of fences or trees, no getting dirty, and no making any noise that would be disruptive.
Overall, he was not to fuss. He was to be on his best behavior, all the time.
He tried so hard to be good, to be still and quiet, but he just couldn’t. He was hyperactive, something he knew was a bad thing in his parents’ eyes, so he thought it was bad, too—until he met Lavinia, who was so much worse than him.
And Theo loved her energy, how she was always bouncing and skipping and twirling and talking, always talking. She was soloud. And he thought maybe all the energy he had wasn’t so bad, after all. They became friends, and he was even worse with Lavinia, the both of them hyper and obnoxious.
With her, he was no longer the quiet, well-behaved child he was with his parents; he was carefree andfun, and he liked that version of himself best, the version he could be with Lavinia.
Which was why he had climbed the apple tree, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed. And he’d paid for it dearly. His parents made sure of that.
After the hospital, Rishi and Amaya were quiet the entire car ride home. They helped him to his room. After he was settled, his parents stood by the door, both of them frowning.
“This is what happens when you don’t listen,” Rishi said. Amaya was silent.
Their disappointment was worse than if they had hit him. The moment they left, he began crying, his entire body shaking until finally he fell asleep.
He went to a dark place—until Lavinia was there right after school, a shooting star landing in his room. A few days later, she brought an arsenal of things so he wouldn’t be sad, and she took care of him.
After the injury, they spent so much time together that it cemented them as best friends, and even though he’d had other friends at school or at football, it was then that he realized he didn’t need any of them—he only needed her.
It was why, secretly, he hadn’t even been sorry he’d split his knee open. It had made them best friends, and since then she had been the best thing in his life, without a doubt.
In school, they always liked asking hypothetical questions like, “If there was a fire what would you take?” or, “Name one thing you can’t live without” or, “If you were stranded on an island, who would you want to be stuck with?”
