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know which door to knock on.” Sam runs over to me, and I rub his head, hoping it comes off as playful and not awkward.

“Are you sure? I’ll take him if it is too much trouble,” he gestures to the exit.

“No trouble at all. I don’t have any plans today, just watching some TV.”

“You are a lifesaver. Thank you, Cameron.” He kisses his son on the head and turns to leave. “Thank you again so much. I really appreciate it.” He closes the gate and heads off to the store.

“I prefer to hang out with you,” Sam says, looking up at me with a smile. I hope the one I give back seems just as genuine.

“I like hanging with you too, kid.” Because I don’t mind Sam, actually.

“Can we watch Intothe Spider-Verse? It’s on Netflix.”

There goes Central Perk.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I turn on his movie. “Want some popcorn?” He nods and crosses his legs on the couch as I head towards the kitchen. As I wait for the popcorn to pop, I take out a gallon of milk and pour him some.

“I’ll take some soda, too!” He shouts from the living room, confident I won’t shatter his dream. But I am.

Walking over to him on the couch, I say, “Sorry, I know the rules. No soda.”

He huffs out a frustrated breath and takes the glass of milk instead. “It’s cold in here.” He grabs a blanket and puts it over himself.

Yeah, tell me about it.

Once the movie starts, he forgets our little stand-off and is busy watching the human spider boy. Sam’s a good kid. I like him because he’s mostly quiet, while some kids are like little energizer bunnies. They don’t sit still, talk constantly, and somehow know the most random bits of information they want to tell you at the most inconvenient of times. 

I saw enough of it from Camilla’s little sister, Abby. She was a cute kid but always made me so uncomfortable because she had no sense of personal space. She always tried to climb on my lap or brush my hair with her toy brushes.

Sam isn’t like that; he just watches his shows, plays his games, does his schoolwork, and will occasionally try to bargain for soda.

I decide to finally start a book Kim has been insisting I read. I put my glasses on, head over to the other end of the couch, and throw on a blanket. I skim through the first page. This one’s about this girl who gets a job at a bar and falls in love with the owner. By the tenth chapter, I’m hooked and lose track of time in the real world.

Sam’s movie is over. He ate the whole bowl of popcorn and is now searching Netflix for something else to watch. He squirms in his seat. “I have to go to the bathroom.” I look up at him from my book with an eyebrow raised.

Ok? And?

He covers his mouth with his hands and whispers the next statement as if anyone else could actually hear us. “It’s number two.”

Great. This kid better wipe his own ass. I look around the house. “I...uh...I don’t--”

A knock on the door startles us both. I jump up. “There’s the sitter!”

I rush to the door, eager to greet his babysitter so I can let her know his current situation. When she’s all filled in, she takes him upstairs for the remainder of the day. Relieved I dodged that bullet, I head into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. I warm up some leftover Chinese Lo Mein and grab myself a glass of Coke before heading back into the living room.

It’s freezing at this point. I can see a cloud of cold air as I exhale. Fuck it. I place my noodles and drink down on the coffee table and throw a blanket over my body as I head towards the front door.

Stepping outside, the air doesn’t seem all that different from inside the house. I grab some firewood from the backyard and carry it inside the house. I open the door to the fireplace and drop it in. Grabbing the large gas lighter from the kitchen, I pour some lighter fluid inside and set the flame on the bottom of the logs. I see some sparks coming from the wood, but it’s not much, so I grab some old newspaper and throw it inside.

A small flame rises, and I fan it with my hands. After a couple minutes of repeating this process, I have a nice little fire going. I close the metal door and sit in front of it for a bit, rubbing my hands together to get warm. We’ll have to mention the heat situation to Sayeed.

Once I’m a bit toastier, I head back to the couch, grab the remote off of the table, and attempt to watch my show again. The theme song to Friends fills the room, and I obnoxiously sing along with the words.

Just as Rachel runs inside the coffee house in a wedding dress, there’s another knock on the door.

What is it, a party at Jaxon’s today?

Maybe it’s the babysitter again? I look around to see if Sam left anything but come up empty. The knocking comes again, much harder and more aggressive this time. I tense up, knowing it likely isn’t the babysitter being this rude.

I approach the door slowly, feeling nervous about who the hell could be on the other side acting so aggressively.

“Open the damn door, Jaxon! I know you’re here!” A woman? Looking for Jaxon? 

I take a peek through the peephole and find straight crimson hair and fiery green eyes staring back at me. Could this be his ex? But why the hell would she be here looking for Jaxon after so long? And is also this comfortable with potentially breaking down his door?

“It’s freezing out here! Open up the damn door!” The heavy thud of her shoe hitting the door officially pisses me off.

Before I jump to any conclusions or come up with ridiculous scenarios I know aren’t true, I

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