Dinner and Delivery

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     The walk leaving the room was much slower than the trek up there. Tim was starting to relax now that he was home. He had changed his own clothes too, he was now in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.

     Gat was making sure to pay attention as they were about to walk out of the room. The floor they were on didn't seem too large. So remembering this floor should be easy. Once they were out of the master bedroom and back into the narrow hallway, Tim surprised Gat by giving him a small verbal tour.

     "That door is my room... my old room." He added the second line under his breath. "Don't go in there." They moved on and headed closer to the stairs. "That's a bathroom. That's my bathroom. You're going to use the one attached to the bedroom you'll be staying in, just to make sure you don't use any my stuff." They stopped just before going down the stairs and Tim pointed to the last door. "That's my brother's home office. Don't go in there either."

     Gat had the feeling as they walked down the stairs that he wasn't going to be allowed in many places. He could definitely see a pattern forming. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Tim continued talking.

     "The door under the stairs is a cleaning closet. All chemicals and other cleaning supplies are in there. That door..." He pointed to the last door behind them, "and this door are my brother's room and bathroom. Don't go in there!"

     Gat gave a small sigh, but nodded. He had no intentions of going into any of those rooms. Why would he? He had no right to be in anyone's private things. He knew that if he still had his things, he wouldn't want anyone to go through them.

     They walked through the living room again. This time, Gat saw a man sitting on the couch watching tv. He had his back to them and seemed to not notice, or care, that they were there. The man had the same hair color as Tim's, but he was obviously older. Gat came to that conclusion when he saw the man holding a drink and swirling it. It appeared to be whisky or some other dark alcohol.

     Tim seemed to ignore the man and continued into a small dinning room that opened up to a good sized modern looking kitchen.

     "We eat dinner together. We all leave at different times for breakfast, but it is mandatory. No one leaves the house without eating something in the morning. On the weekends we do our own thing for lunch. During the week we have lunch at school."

     Tim stopped walking suddenly and turned around to face Gat. Gat almost ran into him, but caught himself at the last moment. He took a step back and looked up at Tim. He could tell that Tim was thinking.

     "We're going to have to sit together if I don't want that bitc..." Tim paused and thought about what the teacher had said, he had to stop swearing. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "That teacher to jump down my throat. So while were out of that classroom, you're not a little and I'm not a caregiver." Gat tilted his head curiously. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as Tim continued. "I hate that they gave me the wrong classification. Everyone will mock me if they even THINK I'm a caregiver. So at school, if anyone asks, you're a general sub. We can tell them the orphan thing. That would explain why you're living here."

     Tim turned back to the kitchen and pulled out a few energy bars. He tossed one to Gat. "That should hold you over til dinner. But I don't want you thinking you can just walk in here and take what you want. Any kind of fruit is fine. But most of the food in here is for meals or my brother bought it for just him and his wife. Tomorrow we'll stop at the grocery store to pick you up your own snacks and between meals food. I don't want you eating too much between meals though. I don't want you getting sick. And not to many sweets either." If Gat was going to be living there, Tim didn't want to put up with any sugar highs.

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