The next morning was a gorgeous day. The rain had finally stopped, and I felt a lot more cheerful, now that the cure's side effects had passed. I bounded out of bed, took a shower, and skipped down the stairs (yes, skipped) to breakfast. I felt much happier. Unfortunately, my spirits dampened a little the moment I entered the kitchen.
It was Micky's turn to make breakfast.
It wasn't that Micky was a bad cook or anything. It was just that he tended to treat each meal as if it were a science experiment. We were never quite sure what we were eating.
And Micky didn't look as though he were in a good mood. He was cooking pancakes. I went over to the stove and peered over his shoulder. The pancakes appeared normal.
"Morning, Micky," I said, cheerfully. Micky merely grunted in response.
"What's in them?" I asked, nodding at the pancakes.
He looked at me skeptically. "Um, flour, eggs, water, a little milk," he said. "We didn't have any blueberries or anything, so they're just plain."
"That's it?" I asked, unable to suppress the surprise in my voice. "Flour, eggs, water, milk? No worchester sauce? No tomatoes? No liverwurst or celery?" I asked, naming a few of Micky's favorite pancakes.
He shrugged. "Nah, I'm not in the mood," he mumbled, and took out a carton of orange juice. I watched him, flabbergasted, for a moment, while the news sank in. 'Not in the mood?' I wondered. When was he ever not in the mood.
"Um, Davy?" he asked, and I stepped aside, realizing I'd been standing in his way. "Would you mind waking up everybody?" he asked. I shook my head to clear the haze and nodded, heading upstairs.
"Mike?"
"Mmm?" Mike moaned and rolled over.
"Mike?"
"What?" he groaned.
"Morning," I said. "Micky made pancakes."
He moaned again and rolled on his stomach, pulling the pillow over his head. "I'm not hungry, thanks," he said.
"No, man, you don't get it. These are normal pancakes."
Mike opened an eye. "Normal?" he asked.
"Yeah, no worchester sauce or liverwurst or nothing," I said. "'E said that 'e wasn't in the mood."
Mike opened the other eye and looked skeptically out from under the pillow.
"You're kiddin'," he said. I shook my head. "Well, I guess maybe I am kinda hungry." He finally dragged himself out of bed and headed down to breakfast while I woke Peter.
The pancakes were actually pretty good. But nobody thanked Micky. He was nowhere to be found. He left the plate of pancakes on the table and had set the table, but he was nowhere to be found. Peter was extremely quiet and retreated back upstairs the moment he'd finished eating. And Nicole didn't come out until he was gone. I watched them, wondering what was going on but forcing myself not to ask. Mike didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong. After Mike had finished breakfast, he headed back upstairs, leaving me alone with Nicole. I watched her as she ate her pancakes in complete silence, and when she started to look at me strangely, I got up and started to wash the dishes. While I scrubbed the plates, I tried to make a bit of conversation.
"So, what's the matter between you and Petah?" I asked. She seemed startled that I had noticed it.
"Why do you think something's wrong?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Just a hunch," I said. "Micky must be involved too," I added, earning more strange looks. "See, after 'e made breakfast, 'e left suddenly, as if there was a reason 'e didn't want to face one of us. And then Petah left as soon as 'e was done. And you didn't come out until Petah was done. Nothing supernatural. Just a li'l bit o' observing."
She looked down at her pancakes. I dried my soapy hands and sat down across from her. "I won't tell anybody," I said. "That side effect made everybody act strange."
She looked at me in surprise, then stopped. "I'm not even gonna ask anymore," she said. "It's just too weird." I grinned. "You promise you won't tell?" she asked.
"I won't tell anybody," I promised.
"All right then, here's what happened," she said, and told me of all that had happened between her and Micky. My eyes grew wide as I listened.
"That's.." I began.
"Now, you won't tell anybody, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Good. I feel incredibly guilty. And I want to tell Peter. I know I should, but," she sighed. "I don't know."
"Want me to talk to 'im?" I asked. Her eyes grew wide. "I won't tell 'im," I added quickly. "Just tell 'im that you need to talk to 'im."
She looked hesitant for a second, and then nodded. "Okay, thanks, Davy," she said, and got up, leaving the kitchen. I watched as she left. On the way back to her room, she passed Fiona, and I noticed a moment of tension for a second. Maybe this was more complicated than I thought.
Peter was upstairs in the bedroom, getting dressed when Mike came up. Hurriedly, he threw on the rest of his clothes and started to leave. Mike stopped him. "Hey, what's the big hurry, Pete?" he asked, stopping Peter as he left.
"N-nothing," Peter said. "I just..um, gotta go somewhere," he improvised quickly. Mike looked skeptical.
"Oh?" he asked. "Where?"
"Um, the store," he said, improvising madly. "To get...eggs."
Mike raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Peter, we have a whole carton of eggs in the refrigerator." Peter's cheeks grew red.
"Oh," he said, looking at the floor. "Um, I was just gonna go for a walk," he said, looking at the wall, the floor, anywhere but Mike's eyes.
Mike couldn't find anything wrong with that, and let him go. Peter rushed out of the room and down the stairs quickly.
"'Ey Mike, is Petah up 'ere?" I asked. "I gotta talk to 'im." Mike gave his hair another swipe with the towel; he'd just gotten out of the shower; and shook his head. "Nope," he said. "He said he was goin' for a walk. Left in a hurry, too," he added. He turned away from the bathroom mirror and gave me a look.
"Somethin's wrong here, Davy," he said.
"Yeah, I know," I said. 'More than you know,' I added silently.
Later that day I was finally able to talk to Peter. It took a while. He was avoiding almost everyone else in the house, and it was hard to get him alone for a second. Finally, I cornered him right before bedtime.
"'Ey, Petah, can I talk to you for a second?" I asked. He looked startled for a moment but nodded, and I took him somewhere where the others wouldn't hear.
"It's about Nicole," I said. "She asked me to talk to you." Peter's eyes grew wide.
"How'd she find out?" he asked. "Did you tell her?"
"Find out what?" I asked, confused. "Tell her what?"
"What I did," he said. "I know you know."
I shook my head, bewildered. "No, I don't know," I said. "What'd you do?"
Peter told me of what he'd done with Fiona. My eyes grew wide. Man, this was complicated, I thought. They'd both cheated with someone else and were avoiding the other. I thought for a moment. Then I took Peter's hand and dragged him to the bedroom.
"What are you doing?" he asked, protesting.
"Solving this," I said. I stopped in front of Nicole's bedroom door and pounded on it. "Are you decent?" I asked. The door opened.
Nicole stood there, staring at me. "Davy? Peter?" she asked. She was dressed in her bathrobe.
"I'm gonna solve this thing," I said to her. "Can I come in? Or rather, you come out here?" I asked. She complied, and we all went into the living room.
Nicole sat on one end of the couch, Peter on the other. I stood in front of it. I turned to Peter. "Now, tell her what you just told me," I commanded.
Peter's eyes grew big with surprise. "B-but, I can't do that," he started to say. I held up a hand to silence him.
"Trust me, you can," I said. "Tell her."
Peter sighed, looked at the floor and told Nicole what he'd done with Fiona. I watched her eyes grow wide with surprise and a little bit of relief. I watched her eyes grow dark with jealousy and then lighten up again when she realized that he'd regretted it. Peter kept his eyes on the floor the entire time.
When he was finished I turned to Nicole, but she just shook her head at me.
"Peter, I did the same thing," she said. Peter lifted his head in surprise. Now it was her turn to stare at the floor while his eyes looked on in shock. She told of her escapade with Micky as his eyes were surprised, relieved, jealous, and relieved again.
She remained staring at the floor after she'd finished. Peter got up and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. He reached over and grabbed her chin, pulling it up to his eye level. She looked at him and smiled sadly. She opened her mouth to say something, and he silenced her with a kiss. I took that to mean I'd overstayed my welcome and that was my cue to leave. As I headed up to bed, Nicole and Peter continued to kiss.
