Creep: A Love Story by Lygia Day Peñaflor

Author:Lygia Day Peñaflor [Peñaflor, Lygia Day]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2022-08-11T00:00:00+00:00

18

Millie doesn’t want to order pizza this time. She says there are “good leftovers,” so I open the fridge. I’m raiding Nico Fiore’s fridge.

She was right. There’s eggplant parmesan! Laney wasn’t at Allegro when I picked Millie up today. I was so disappointed. But my luck is turning. There’s nearly half a tray of parm left.

“Mmm . . .” Millie stares as I take the lid off. “We can finish it. Whoever’s first gets it, that’s the rule. Losers weepers.”

My stomach growls. A home-cooked dinner made by someone who isn’t me! “No weeping for us,” I say.

“We just have to make more angel-hair pasta.” Millie pulls a pot from the bottom drawer. “We finished that part last night.”

I’m boiling water on Nico Fiore’s stove. I’m clearing Nico Fiore’s dinner table. No big deal, just being a good babysitter. Under Millie’s notebooks and folders are financial info packets: Hunter College and Baruch. New York City schools. I’m squealing inside!

We set the table for two while the pasta boils. Millie says angel-hair is her favorite pasta because it’s the fastest. I have to agree. You can’t beat the flavor of a four-minute cooking time.

Millie digs the colander out of the cabinet, but I don’t let her drain the water. I make sure to do it myself. I’m getting so good at this job.

This is the same meal Nico and Laney ate last night. Her sweatshirt is still hanging over the chair. I eat slowly, savoring each bite. I’m ready with topics if they come home first tonight. Please, please, please come home first.

How’s it going over there? Mrs. Fiore texts.

I reply ASAP, Delicious eggplant parm!

I’m so glad you like it. Don’t worry about the dishes.

After dinner, Millie “reads.” I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, clean the kitchen table and the countertop, fill the parm tray with soapy water, and leave it to soak. This is how to get invited back.

The twenty-minute timer on my phone rings. “Time!” I say.

Millie slams her book shut. Then she speeds through her reading log questions. It’s her only homework tonight, so she says. I should check her memo pad to make sure, but whatever. I still have my own English and Religion homework. I can’t concentrate, though. I have an agenda.

“I didn’t get to see your room last time,” I say. Tonight is the night. I will see Nico’s bedroom.

Millie rushes to the Legos on the carpet.

“Do you want to play upstairs?” I ask. I need to feel closer to them—I’ve been staring at their Superlatives photo all week.

“Nah,” Millie says. “I’m making a swimming pool and a pool house and a horse ranch and an ice cream shop and a theater—a drama one, not a movie one—because that’s a waste of village money. Anyone can watch movies at home, it’s modern times.” She rolls her eyes. “And a ski slope, and a tunnel.”

“But aren’t you tired?” I ask.

“No.”

She must be joking. I did everything I could to exhaust her this time, no exaggeration.

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