Battle of the Cake Mixes

Just a cute cat fight over a douchebag(:

An uncomfortable silence occupied the room she and I stood in. It wasn't supposed to be like this, if not for my meddlesome friends who set us up like this. In attempt to have us reconcile, they left us with baking supplies which we were supposedly supposed to bond over. I hated her. I had reason to hate her, and they knew it, yet they still chose to do this. And now, I was in the process of trying to burn holes into her head but failed miserably.

"Well are we going to start or what?" she said without looking up at me.

I scoffed. "Are you serious? You mind as well leave now. There's no point in doing this."

I saw her flinch and hesitate for a moment, then pick up the cake mix and started mixing in the ingredients. I stood there dumbfounded. But as I watched her carefully mix in the eggs, sugar and mix, I realized that she hadn't changed in the past year I've been trying to desperately avoid her, which made me chuckle out loud.

"What?" she snapped. And this time, I doubled over and laughed hard which left her with a lost expression. I immediately stopped and brought myself to remember that she was my nemesis, and we were at war. Though somewhere deep down, I felt a part of me try to convince myself that she had come here in attempt to have a truce with me. I took my place across the counter, preparing the batch of brownies. We awkwardly mixed the ingredients, both desperately avoiding conversation. She stared hard at the vanilla colored mix as if studying it in case I would give her a pop quiz. I, on the other hand, could care less. I didn't mind not exchanging words with her, saves a lot of negative energy.

But she thought otherwise. "So, how are you?"

"Fine." I tried to keep it at the bare minimum.

She sighed, stopped studying the cake mix and gave me her undivided attention. "Look, I know you're upset about what happened, but is it my fault he left you?" I let go of the batter and felt may jaw tighten. "We're not kids anymore so could you please stop behaving like this?" she continued. I clenched my fist and tried with all my might not to sock her in the face. I was so wrong about her wanting to reconcile with me. "Plus, Kevin is a total a*s--" I heard my string of patience snap and in a split second, I saw my hand slap her across the face.

I huffed and puffed as if I just ran a marathon. She stared at me incredulously. I felt rage build up within me. "I will not let you call him a a*****e!!"

She sized me up with equal amount of anger. "Will you listen to yourself?! He dumped you during winter ball!! IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE SCHOOL!!" She screamed that last part extra loud like I was some sort of mentally challenged girl. That was it. I'm willing to spend the rest of my life in juvenile if I could make her eat her words. I scooped up a handful of brownie mix and smudged it all over her face. Then I took a few steps back to admire my art work. Her face twisted in an unsightly manner and then without warning, dumped the entire cake mix on me. I screeched and lunged for her red hair. I yanked at her hair willing to give her a bald spot while she kept trying to push my face away from her's. We were now on the floor both covered in cake mix, trying to withstand one another.

"Ow! Will you quit pulling my hair?!" she winced. Looks like I have the upper hand. "Just---JUST LISTEN!!!" she yelled, finally able to leave my grasp. We both crouched on the floor, staring each other down and regaining our breaths. After a few moments of intense silence, I broke down. Crud. I lost. Tears ran down my cheeks and I fought series of hic-ups. She obviously did a double take because she stuttered, "Wh-What did I-I do?"

"Everything. You stole Kevin from me. You knew he was my everything." I managed to let out.

I heard her let out an exaggerated sigh, "I know. That's why I did what I did. He was an a*s--" I glared at her. "A douchebag." She attempted. Better, but not enough for my mercy so I continued sniffing and trying to look pitiful. Damn, where were tears when you needed 'em? "Anyways, he was cheating on you!!" she said in a firm but softer voice than before. "I am not going to allow a douchebag to be my best friend's love of her life. Nu-uh." I lifted my head and our eyes met. She had such an earnest look.

After a couple of sniffles, I said, "I don't care if he cheated on me. What I'm really upset about is that you stole him from me."

She winced at that, and I believed that was a dagger to the heart. "That's the thing. I was going to get revenge for you by having him go out with me, then dump him the way he did to you."

I blinked twice and then burst into a fit of giggles. I was literally on the floor, clutching my stomach. After I straightened myself, I mangaed inbetween laughs, "Who said that we weren't kids anymore?" She gave me a sheepish grin. Then I stopped laughing and realized, "You broke up with him? When??"

Yet another sheepish grin. "Yeah, that actually happened during the spring dance."

I gaped. "Girl! You should have told me to come!" I would've killed to see his expression when she dumped him.

She snorted. "Like I didn't try. You wouldn't even glance at me."

Now it was my turn to break into a sheepish grin. "Hey, who told you to steal people's boyfriends?"

"He was a--"

"A*****e." I finshed for her. Then we both burst into laughter. After fifteen minutes of reconciliation, I surveyed the room to see how much damage we've caused. Ouch. It's pretty bad. Utensils were sprawled all over the counter tops, both brownie and cake mix were splattered everywhere; the floor, table, walls, and some even made it to the ceiling. She had stopped chattering and followed my line of sight to understand that we were in major trouble.

Just then, I heard the front door click open and my mother announced, "I'm homee!"

I panicked and in the spur of the moment, I grabbed her arm and whispered, "Run!" We made a beeline for the back door and just before we left, I heard my mother let out a deafening screech which caused us to laugh out loud again. We exchanged glances and somehow both understood that we had just made a truce. She and I are as different as brownie and cake mix, but we mix together just as well because we come from the same batch.