Drew

“What happened to mi casa su casa?”
“Drew, mi casa es su casa, but not to go and make it look like a tornado hit the place.”
“You want me to leave?”
He stops scratching about and glares at Peter-John.
“No one is forcing you to stay. You’re free to leave if you wish.”
He looks at him.
Drew can’t read him.
“Fine! I’ll pack my stuff and go.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
He shakes his head.
Despondence the only face he could manage.
“I don’t get you, Pete?”
He walks closer to the kitchen, where Peter-John is sitting.
“Everyone else has told me to take a hike. I only give you problems and still you… wish… I wouldn't.”
“What’s not to get, Drew?”
Serious expression on Peter-John’s face.
“Why are you doing this?”
He starts pacing.
“You’re my friend.”