Chapter 9

 

        Friday. The day every student on the planet loves to hear. To Lizzy, it meant that she would be seeing Braden for two whole days, nonstop. She couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. She would possibly be alone with him again over the span of the weekend. Maybe she would get more comfortable around him…or maybe not. Of course, Gwen and Jerry would be there, but Lizzy wasn’t quite ready to talk to them about much except for school. The only thing she had planned was to take inventory on the asters for Sylvia at L’Arome on Saturday, but that was it. Plus, Sylvia was not even going to be at home for the weekend; on account of she was going to a flower convention in London. So, in other words, Lizzy had no desire for Friday, or the weekend, whatsoever.

          Now she was sitting in the swirl-patterned lounger in the living room. Jerry was grading papers for the primary students; Gwen was upstairs in her room and Braden out back playing football with his friends, Alejandro and Tim. Or as he liked to call them, Vasquez and Robbins. But she, Lizzy, was doing nothing. She had some homework to do, but no one liked doing homework, on a weekend in particular, directly after school. Plus, it was a very sunny day outside, and she longed to go in the backyard. But that was definitely not going to happen. There was no way she was going to go outside, make a fool out of herself kicking a ball around in front of three acceptably good-looking guys, with one of them being Braden. There was absolutely no way.

          After some time had passed by, Lizzy got up and decided she had to do something with this afternoon. She couldn’t talk with Anna, so she rose from the comfortable plushy seat and went into the kitchen to make something to remind her of the bright, sun-drenched outdoors.

          Lizzy opened the smooth silver fridge. Inside, she immediately saw something that would be irresistibly delicious.

          “Perfect,” Lizzy said to herself, as she pulled out a large bag of lemons. Sylvia sometimes grated lemon zest onto exotic flowers for extra scent. Therefore, there were several lemons in the bin at the bottom of the fridge, and Lizzy figured that they could spare a few for a fresh pitcher of lemonade.

          Lizzy opened the cupboards and got out a clear glass pitcher, some sugar, and a citrus juicer. She always made fresh-squeezed lemonade in New Hampshire whenever it was hot and sunny. It was very revitalizing, especially on an eighty-two degree day like this one.

          After about twenty minutes, and her fourth taste-test, Lizzy made the most succulent, quenching lemonade she had ever made on her own. Not too syrupy-sweet, not too tart, not too weak, and not too strong. It was nearly perfect.

          Lizzy poured herself some and savored every drop of it. After a moment, she put her hand on the glass pitcher and looked out the sliding glass door that she was able to see straight through. She saw three adorable British sweaty soccer players running there and back again. She wondered if they even knew she was in plain sight; through the clear glass. She watched them kick the ball back and forth, head bumping it, and kicking it into the makeshift goal. From watching, she knew that Braden and Alejandro were both really good, with Tim being adequate. And judging how sweaty they were, and how frequently they took breaks, Lizzy knew they were about to call it quits. So, she quickly placed the pitcher back in the fridge, and raced up the stairs into her room where no one could get to her. Well… in other words, she doubted Braden, Alejandro, and Tim would come busting in her room for no apparent reason. But for now, she would stay in her room, doing her exceedingly uninteresting homework until suppertime.

          Regrettably, Lizzy opened her humanities book to the first chapter and started reading about philosophy from Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle. It wasn’t the most exciting assignment in the world, but it was better than staying downstairs and sitting around, waiting for the guys to come in, and then having to sound “calm and cool” in front of all of them. She would go downstairs eventually. She knew she had to sometime. But for now, she would sit back, open her textbook, and read.

                                      ~

          Some fifteen minutes later, in the middle of transitioning paragraphs, Lizzy heard a door open and a small stampede of feet hoarding into the kitchen. Semi-loud chatter continued on as she heard the fridge opening and shutting. Laughter traveled towards the opposite side of the house, to where the sound grew faint. Lizzy figured they were leaving, considering she was hearing a door squeak open. A few moments later it shut. Even though she wanted to go downstairs, she decided to wait until dinner, just like she had told herself earlier. She would only set herself up for complete and utter embarrassment if she left her room.

         

~

          After what seemed like hours, Lizzy lifted her head from the bent position she had it in for reading. She couldn’t take one more ounce of Aristotle and his writings of ethics and nature. Like wise, she snapped the book shut, slid it inside her book bag, and decided to tidy up her room, even though it was already pretty much as neat as a pin. And what wasn’t spotless, she was going to make it that way, just to make time pass.

          She smoothed the duvet cover, and put her shoes away in her closet. She zipped up her book bag and put it in the corner. And last, she dusted off her clock and straightened it up. She then picked it up to see the time. It was 4:57. The only good thing about the time was that it was getting closer and closer to dinner, which was when Sylvia would come home, and she would be able to go downstairs, with the whole family there. Then, the possibility of awkward silences between her and Braden would be completely impossible.

Lizzy sighed as she strolled past her desk. She looked at the blue agapanthus flower she had brought up to her room on the first day of school. It hadn’t changed much, except for one petal. It broke away from the connected shape the whole flower made together. But it only poked out in the slightest.

Lizzy watched the seven on the clock change to an eight. Then she walked slowly back to her nightstand.

 Any second now.  Lizzy thought. Sylvia always came home at six, but she was coming home early today to gather up her things to leave for the flower convention in London. Even though it was only about an hour       away, she had to pack up plants, flowers, and miniature trees for the conference, and drive them down to the hotel where her and all of the other L’Arome employees would be staying over night. Lizzy assumed it was some sort of “British flower shop of the year” contest, or else it wouldn’t be so important.

          Soon enough, Lizzy heard the front door open and little taps of high heels making their way to the living room. Lizzy was sure it was Sylvia, so she decided to wait five minutes and let her get in the door first. About three minutes later, she heard Gwen’s door open, and Lizzy guessed she was going downstairs to greet her mother. Lizzy decided to go down with her.

          She opened her own door and followed Gwen down the hallway.

          “Oh,” Gwen said as she noticed Lizzy was right behind her. “There you are. I thought you were downstairs. What were you doing up here?” Gwen asked.

          “Just my homework.” Lizzy said as they climbed down the stairs. “You?”

          “Same,” Gwen said.

          The two of them made it down stairs and entered the kitchen. Sylvia and Jerry were standing around the island table, which was now decorated with brilliant pink and orange flowers. They were speaking in hushed tones.

          “Hi, Mum,” Gwen said as she entered the kitchen. Lizzy came in right behind her. Lizzy then saw Braden walk out in the other direction just as she entered.

          Sylvia turned to face Lizzy and Gwen.

          “How were your days at school?” Sylvia asked.

          “Fine.” Gwen said, as she walked over to the other side of the kitchen.

          “Great.” Lizzy said. She remained where she was.

          “Fantastic.” Sylvia said. “Now, Gwen, dear, I know you do not like cooking, but I do need to pack up for the flower convention. Could you whip up something real fast for Lizzy and Braden and yourself? Your dad is driving down and there and helping Colette and I set up.” Sylvia said.

          Lizzy froze. It was only going to be her, Gwen, and Braden?! Lizzy silently prayed that Gwen would stay downstairs the majority of the evening.

          “Mu-um!” Gwen whined. “Why does dad have to go?”

          “Because he has been to London before. I have not. Remember when you all went in July?” Sylvia said.

          Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes,” Gwen paused. Then her eyes lit up. “I’ve got an idea. How about Colette drives you? That way dad can stay home!”
          Sylvia shook her head. “No. She does not have enough room in her car, and your dad and I have already arranged it.” Sylvia said, in a tone that practically stripped Gwen of the ability of going further. “I am going to go pack now, and you better not be sulking, young lady.”

          Lizzy watched Sylvia leave the kitchen. Suddenly, Braden entered the room.

          “Hey,” he said to Lizzy and Gwen. Then he looked at Gwen. “What’s wrong with you?”

          “Mum’s making me cook dinner. You’re the one who knows how to cook! I don’t even know how to make boxed macaroni and cheese.” Gwen pouted.

          “Hopefully we don’t have any of that, then.” Braden laughed.

          “What is that supposed to mean?” Gwen asked, almost offended.

          “Well, last time you made it, the noodles were, a little, well, burnt.” Braden started to laugh.

          “It’s not funny,” Gwen said sourly. “It’s not my fault you threw the box away.”

          “I assumed you knew how to make it.” Braden opposed.

          “I did!” Gwen defended. Then she stopped. “Well, I thought I did.” She cracked a smile.

          Braden suddenly burst into laughter. “And you made Bridget get it out of the trash can, remember?”

          Gwen giggled, embarrassed. “I was in a bad mood that day.”

          “Yeah. I agree with that.” Braden walked towards the fridge.

          Bridget was glad Gwen was there. Actually, she was glad it was just the three of them for a change. Of course, Jerry and Sylvia were still in the house, but Lizzy was glad they were all bonding.

          There was a silence as Gwen looked at Braden expectantly.

          “What?” Braden asked. Then he realized. “I’m not making dinner! I have…things to do.” He said.

          “Yeah, right,” Gwen said. “You have nothing to do.”

          “I have homework!” he said.

          “That can wait.” Gwen said. “Do you want to have dinner, or not?” she asked.

          “Yes. But you can make it.” He said, pointing at Gwen

          She snickered. “I will burn it. It won’t be edible if I make it.”

          Braden opened his mouth, but then closed it again. “True,” he said.

          A silence crept upon the room again.

          Braden started tapping his foot. “This is about when Bridget would give in and make it.” Braden said. Then he looked toward Lizzy. “She hates arguing.” He informed her.

          “Now that she is gone, we won’t have out little peacemaker anymore.” Gwen said.

          “Maybe Lizzy can save us, then.” Braden elbowed Lizzy in the arm, playing around.

          “I guess I’ll try…” Lizzy said. She didn’t want to sound like she’d be making up for Bridget at all.

          “So, are you going to make supper?” Gwen stared expectedly at Braden.

          He said nothing.

          “Fine,” Gwen said, as she straightened up from leaning against the counter. “If you guys want a dreadful dinner, I shall make you one,” Gwen said, as she opened the cupboard door. She smiled playfully as she grabbed a box of corkscrew noodles.

          “Oh, Braden, look what I have!” She teased.

          “Put those away!” he said, as he grabbed the box out of her hands.

          “Then why don’t you make them?” she asked.

          “I will.” He said, as he got a pot from the cabinet. “But don’t think I’m giving in---‘’

          “You are so giving in.” Gwen interrupted.

          “No, I am not. I just don’t want my taste buds to shrivel up and die, that’s all.” Braden said, turning the faucet on to fill the pot up with water.

          Gwen gave him a how-dare-you look. “I am not that bad!” she said.

          “Yes you are,” Braden laughed, as he turned off the water.

          Gwen started to leave the kitchen, to go upstairs. “I am not.” She said.

          “Yes, you are!” Braden said, as she was climbing the stairs.

          “Am not!” she shouted.

          “Are too!” Braden hollered back. Gwen’s door shut loudly in response.

          Braden then looked at Lizzy when he poured the noodles in. They made a clattering sound. “She is impossible.”

          “It seems like it.” Lizzy said quietly.

          “You’re lucky that you have younger brothers and sisters, so they aren’t telling you what to do all of the time. It gets so annoying when Gwen gets so controlling. I wish she’d just loosen up a little.”

          There was yet another small silence between them, but it wasn’t as awkward as before.

          “You know,” Braden said as he turned on the fire for the stove. “You make some pretty good lemonade.” He then looked directly at Lizzy.

          She grinned widely. “Oh! You tried it?” she asked.

          “Yeah,” he said. “What did you put in there?”

          “Just some of your mom’s lemons. And sugar and water.” Lizzy replied.

          “It was delicious. Nothing beats fresh-squeezed lemonade.” He said, waiting for the water to boil, and the noodles to soften.

          “Thanks,” Lizzy said. “But how did you know I made it?” she asked.

          “I saw you.” He answered as he smiled boyishly. “Well, we saw you. Vasquez, Robbins, and me. We took a break from football and just looked inside, and saw you there making it.” He replied, while opening up the refrigerator.

          “Oh,” Lizzy said. Then she actually thought about what he had just said. All three of them. Watching me? It took every ounce of her concentration not to turn red there on the spot. How could I have not noticed? 

          “Do you like to cook?” he asked, shaking Lizzy out of her thought mode.

          “Yeah, especially experimenting and all?” Lizzy said.

          “Definitely,” Braden agreed. “Do you want to help make this pasta salad with me?” Braden asked.

          “Sure!” Lizzy replied, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically. But she couldn’t help it. She was excited. Excited because she would be spending time with Braden, and there would be a purpose to it. “But, I thought we were making macaroni and cheese?” she said.

          “Well, we were. But we don’t have the right kind of cheese. Plus, I wanted to make something different anyway.” Braden said.

          “Why?” Lizzy asked, wondering why he wanted to make something different, perhaps, special.

          Braden looked up from the boiling water. He turned the dial off. “Because you’re here.”

          Lizzy could’ve sworn she levitated ten feet off the ground when he said that.

          “Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together the way someone would if trying to create friction. “Can you get out the peas from the freezer, and the parmesan from the fridge?”

          “Sure,” Lizzy said.

          “Great.” Braden said. “I’ll get the mayonnaise and the spices.”

          Lizzy started grating the cheese for it and Braden started mixing in the mayonnaise.

          When Lizzy had an ample amount of grated cheese, she sprinkled it one the salad. Then she tossed it with cooking utensils.

          “Wow, it sure looks good,” said Braden. “But did we forget something?” he asked.

          Lizzy looked at it and realized it was lacking color, and realized she forgot to put the peas in the microwave.

          “The peas,” she said. “I left them out on accident!” Lizzy said, feeling like an inexperienced goof. 

          “No big deal,” Braden said, flashing a smile. “I’ll put them in.” he then picked up the thawing bag of peas and poured them in bowl to be heated up. He put them in the microwave, and set it to five minutes and twenty seconds.

          As soon as Lizzy realized that she would be standing there in the kitchen with no purpose except for waiting for a vegetable to heat up, Jerry and Sylvia walked down the stairs and set Sylvia’s bags by the front door. They then entered the kitchen.

          “Gwen tricked you two into making dinner?” Jerry asked, as he looked shook his head in a playful disapproving sort of way.

          “Well, not exactly,” Braden said. “She sort of tricked me into volunteering. But it’s fine. We’re just heating up the peas now.”

          “You’re making Bridget’s recipe, I take it?” Sylvia asked.

          “Yup,” Braden said.

          “Bridget likes to cook?” Lizzy asked, surprised that Bridget didn’t mention that to her when they were exchanging interests in their letters.

          “Not more than she loves studying culture and all that,” Braden said.

          “Oh, really? That’s cool.” Lizzy said trying to sound interested.

          “But yes,” Sylvia said, answering Lizzy’s question. “She does like to cook.”

          Lizzy nodded.

          Sylvia then went to the bottom of the stairs and called for Gwen to come to the kitchen.

          As soon as all of five of them were downstairs in the kitchen, Jerry began to speak.

          “I see that Braden and Lizzy have made dinner,” Jerry said, as he looked at Gwen. Then he cleared his throat. “I just wanted you all to know that I will be back around ten, so you’ll be on your own for a little while.”

          Gwen interrupted. “Da-ad, we’ve been on our own before. Even for a whole day! Why are you"‘’

          Sylvia looked at Gwen. “We just wanted to make clear to Lizzy that we would be out a little late, that’s all. There is no need for cheek.” She said. Gwen’s face flushed.

          “All right, then,” Jerry said, rubbing his hands together. “Do you want to get going, dear?” Jerry looked at Sylvia.

          “Certainly,” Sylvia said.

          And with that, they hugged Braden, Lizzy, and Gwen good-bye, picked up Sylvia’s bags, and just as the door closed, the microwave beeped announcing that the peas were done.

          Braden opened the microwave, and poured the peas in the bowl.

          “Lizzy, do you know where I put the wooden spoon?” Braden asked, looking around.

          “Um….” Lizzy looked around with him, trying to find it.

          Suddenly Gwen opened a drawer. “You never got it out, wazzock.” She handed it to Braden.

          “Thank you,” Braden said sarcastically, now stirring the pasta salad.

          They were all standing there when Lizzy realized there was yet another small silence hanging over the room.

          “You’re not allergic to any of this, are you Lizzy?” Braden asked, trying to break the silence, even thought the question wasn’t even necessary.

          “Oh, uh, no. I’m not.” Lizzy smiled, hoping that that would somehow make Gwen or Braden talk again.

          But it didn’t.

Lizzy stood there, just like the other two, leaning up against the counter, with nothing to say. She realized that she needed to say something, because before, all anyone did was talk to her. She never sparked up any conversation. She figured this was the time.

          As Lizzy drew in a breath to talk, the microwave sounded. Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! The long, drawn out noises silenced her.

          Saved by the bell, Lizzy thought. Sort of.

Braden took out the bowl of peas from the microwave and poured them into the mix. The he started stirring. 

          “Trust me; you’ve never had a better pasta salad than this one. It is so easy to make, and it’s really good.” Braden said.

          “I don’t think we’ve made a different one since Bridget ‘invented’ it.” Gwen said.

          Lizzy decided this was the time to say something. “When did she start making it?”

          “Oh, around sixth grade…I think.” Gwen answered.

          “Wow…she must be really talented, then.” Lizzy replied.

          “Yup, pretty much just Bridget and I know how to cook in this family. Mum, dad, and Gwen all have the curse of burning or overcooking things.” Braden looked back at Gwen and smiled as he finished stirring.

          “Is it finished?” Lizzy asked. She hoped it was, so they could eat. She didn’t want to stand around trying to think of things to say much longer.  

          “Just about,” Braden said. He then got out a serving spoon, which ‘completed’ the dish.

          “I’ll get out the bowls,” Gwen said.

Pretty soon the three of them dished up their pasta salad and sat down in the living room to eat.

          Lizzy sat in her regular place---the swirl-patterned couch, Braden sat next to her. Gwen, however, was in a single-person chair.

          “Oh look,” Gwen said, as she set her bowl on the coffee table beside her. “Dad left us a movie to watch.” Gwen picked up the movie rental from the ottoman a few feet away from her. “It says, ‘For Braden, Lizzy, and Gwen: I hope you like this, Uncle George suggested it for you. I love you all, and behave!’” Gwen placed the note in her lap.

          “Well, which movie is it?” Braden asked.

          “The title is ‘Alex Rider: Operation Stormbreaker’.” Gwen flipped the DVD over and started reading it. A few moments later, she opened the case and popped the disc in the DVD player.

          “Stormbreaker…” Braden said. “I think Vasquez told me about this one. He said it was about a bloke our age that gets to be a spy for the M16 because he’s some action man with climbing mountain abilities and martial arts and stuff. He said it wasn’t worth any cop, but I guess we can watch it. ”

          There was a pause as the movie made its way to the menu through previews. “What’s the ‘M16’?” Lizzy decided to ask.

          “It’s the British equivalent to your CIA in America.” Gwen snipped, like Lizzy should’ve known.

          “Oh, okay.” Lizzy said meekly. She was hesitant to ask any more questions like “what does ‘not worth any cop’ mean?” after that.

          After Braden got up to turn off the lights to get a better view of the television, Gwen started the movie and the action began…well, sort of.

          The movie started out with a 14-year-old normal boy who used to live with his uncle, until he died on a secret mission as a spy for the M16. Alex Rider, the ‘normal boy’ didn’t know his uncle was a spy until he passed away. Suddenly, his uncle’s boss recruits him to continue the mission. Since Alex was trained all of his life (without he himself knowing what it was for) to climb mountains, do karate, and things like that by his uncle, he was ready to become a spy. The movie continues with Alex fighting off enemies with stealthy, swift-like action that resembles an adolescent James Bond, and eventually he beats the bad guys and all is well. In the middle of the film Rosie crept up between Braden and Lizzy and curled herself up into a little ball. Lizzy really wanted to pet her, but the last time she did, a certain something involving Braden happened that she didn’t want to reoccur.

Finally, the credits started rolling. Lizzy found that while she was watching the movie, the sky got a lot darker and it was now 6:58 p.m. Three hours and two minutes of time to wait until Jerry got home. She sat there in a fog wondering what she should do for that time, until Gwen turned the lights on, which were obnoxiously bright in comparison to what she had been seeing for an hour and a half. Suddenly Braden got up from the couch and stretched.

          “That wasn’t as bad as I though it would be,” Braden said as he yawned. “Vasquez can be pretty harsh about stuff like that.”

          “Well, I agree with him…I wasn’t entertained at all.” Gwen said as she gracefully leapt out of her chair.

          “You’re never satisfied with anything, Gwen,” Braden said, popping open the case to the DVD.

          “Ugh!” Gwen argued. “Just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean I…” She sighed. “Shut up.”

          And with that, Gwen marched up to her room, and Lizzy was stuck with Braden, once again, in an awkward silence.

          “So, uh, what do you feel like doing?” Braden asked Lizzy, as he slid both of his hands in his pockets.

           “Um, well…” Lizzy, stammered. She absolutely hated be asked what she would like to do, especially by someone she would be nervous to do anything with alone. So, she just pretended to think, hoping Braden would come up with something soon.

          After about a minute of full silence, Braden spoke up and suggested something.

          “Well, personally, I feel like cooking again. And since you like it, I thought maybe we could make something together.” Braden said. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to, because, I mean, we just made something, so…” He shifted his feet.

          Lizzy immediately agreed, glad that he said something. “Okay!”

          “Really?” he smiled, surprised that she actually wanted to make something again. “I mean, cool. What do you feel like making?” 

          Lizzy sighed inwardly. Yet another question that she didn’t have an answer to. Nonetheless, she didn’t want Braden to go unanswered, so she said the first thing that came to mind.

          “How about Boston cream pie?” Even though she didn’t know exactly what was in it, she hoped they could make it anyway.

          Braden smiled. “Boston Cream Pie? Isn’t that really a cake?”

          “Kind of,” Lizzy answered. “So, do you want to make it?” She was surprised at her sudden assertiveness.

          “Sure, why not? We’ve got time to kill.” Braden said, as he walked into the kitchen. Lizzy followed in behind him.

          “Okay, first thing’s first,” Braden said, as he rolled up his sleeves. “How do you do it?”

          Lizzy laughed. She didn’t want to sound brainless, so she guessed what was done first in making a Boston cream pie.

          “Well, I think that first, you have to make a first layer cake of some sort.” Lizzy said. She hoped she didn’t sound dim-witted.

          “A cake of some sort?” Braden laughed. “Are you sure you know how to make this?”

          Lizzy giggled. “Um, not really…” Lizzy answered. “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

          He laughed with her. “No worries.” Braden said. “I’ll just get a recipe off of the computer.”
           In no time, Braden came back with a full-length, printed out recipe for Boston cream pie.

          “Okay,” Braden said. “First preheat the oven.” He quickly turned the dial to 350 degrees. Then, get out the ingredients flour, baking soda, sugar, and salt.” He looked up from the paper. “Do you know where those are?” He asked Lizzy.

          “Yup,” she answered. She then got them out. “Anything else?” she asked.

          “Oh, and the bowl from the mixer.” Braden added.

          The next direction was to pour in all of the ingredients, mix them all together, and then pour in the liquids (milk, oil, egg yolks, and vanilla). After it was done mixing for three minutes, they poured the mixture into two pie pans and put them in the oven.

          “That wasn’t too hard, was it?” Lizzy asked. For some reason, now she wasn’t uptight around him. Maybe it was because she figured he’d forgotten about the whole “hand incident”.

          “Actually it wasn’t.” Braden said. He then eyed the recipe paper that was on the counter by Lizzy. “Could you hand me that? I think we have to make the filling next.”

          “Sure,” Lizzy said. “We actually have to make the filling? I always thought it came in can.” Lizzy said, as she handed him the paper.

          “It probably does, but that would be cheating.” He lifted his eyes up from the paper and smiled boyishly at Lizzy. This time she couldn’t hold it in; she had to blush.

          “It says to get out the milk, six egg yolks, granulated sugar, cornstarch, vanilla bean oil, and unsalted butter.” Braden said as he got those ingredients out of the fridge and the cabinets. “We don’t have vanilla bean oil, but we have this ‘vanilla extract’ right here. I think that’ll work.” Braden said.

          “Okay, if you think so,” Lizzy replied.

          “It says next to get out a saucepan,” Braden looked at Lizzy, indicated that she could get one for him. “And…pour in the milk and vanilla bean oil…or in this case, the vanilla extract, and heat to a boil in medium heat.”

          Braden poured them both into the saucepan, and turned the dial on the stove. “Then it says to stir constantly until boil.” Braden paused. “Do you want to mix the egg yolks and sugar, since I’m doing this, or would you rather do what I’m doing?” he asked.

          “Well, since you seem like a better cook than I am, I’ll stir, so I won’t mess up the whole egg yolk and sugar thing.” Lizzy said, hoping that didn’t sound like she just wanted the easier part.

          “Sounds good to me.” Braden said. So he got out the mixer and started blending the egg yolks and sugar.

          There was a small silence as the milk and vanilla was sizzling a little, and the hand mixer was buzzing. Thankfully, Braden spoke up before things got awkward.

          “You know what? I’ll turn on some music, so that’ll make time go by faster. We have a radio in the kitchen.” Likewise, he turned it on, and it started playing songs that Lizzy had never heard of before, but it was better than silence.

          “You like this?” he asked, above the noise.

          “Yeah, it’s, uh…I like it!” Lizzy replied. She wasn’t sure exactly what to say; it sounded basically like American music.

          Pretty soon, after two songs, the milk and vanilla extract started boiling. Lizzy read the directions, and it said to turn the fire off immediately and set it aside to cool for about fifteen minutes.

          “Is it done?” Braden asked.

          “Yeah, it started boiling, so I stopped stirring.” Lizzy answered.

          “I think this whipped egg yolk and sugar is just about finished, too.” He then turned off the mixer.

          Suddenly, Lizzy realized something. She had to wait fifteen minutes until the milk and vanilla were done cooling…that meant quietness. Which meant, having to talk to Braden, which would make Lizzy self-conscious. Maybe the music would save her.

          All of the sudden, a song that was a little different from the rest started playing, and Lizzy decided to listen to it, because, frankly, it sounded good.

          “This is Gwen’s favorite song,” Braden said. “It’s called ‘The Loving Kind’. I’ll turn it up so maybe she could hear it.” Braden turned the dial on the radio up. It had quite a fast beat, and it was sort of electronic.

 

 

Sometimes I watch you when you’re sleeping,
I wonder what you’re feeling,
Both wide awake and dreaming of yesterday,
I want you to kiss away the tensions,
The issues never mentioned,
With all the best intentions,
But you turn away

 

Suddenly, Braden started dancing; jumping up and down like a person at a nightclub.

          “Come on!” he said to Lizzy, when he saw her face: amused and smiling. “Dance!”

          It took all of her strength not to flip out and say “REALLY?!? But all she said was,

          “Alright.”

Lizzy joined right in, as they both jumped around the kitchen, being careful not to knock anything over. But Lizzy was even more focused on not turning red as Elmo. After all, when a boy with crystal aqua eyes looked at you like you were one of the most awesome people on Earth, it was hard not to scream with excitement.

I know you may be disinclined,
to find the love we left behind,
so kiss me then make up your mind

As the song went on with the same exciting electronic beat, Lizzy and Braden kept dancing side by side; the music volume cranked up to almost the highest possible. Braden still continued to look at Lizzy, smiling, like he was having the best time ever. Lizzy started smiling, too, but she didn’t know why. Then, all of the sudden, they both started laughing. So hard, that they couldn’t stop. And they were both so caught up in laughing, and the song, that they didn’t notice Gwen standing in the entryway of the kitchen. Lizzy immediately stopped jumping and down, and so did Braden, once he noticed she was there. Simultaneously, the song ended, killing the mood in the room.

“It’s Mia,” Gwen said.

Lizzy then noticed that Gwen had the phone in her hand.

“Oh,” Braden said. “Okay. I’ll be right back Lizzy.” He said as he was turning towards Gwen. “Oh, and the cakes should be finished now, so you can pull them out of the oven.” Braden said, as he took the phone and went into the living room.

“Alright,” Lizzy murmured, as she got out the oven mitts. Who is Mia? She silently wondered in her mind. She decided to listen to the conversation as much as she could from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Braden said. There was a pause; obviously this Mia girl was talking. “Oh, sorry, I was listening to music; I guess I couldn’t hear my cell phone.” Yet another pause.

Lizzy set the cakes on the stove and crept closer to the wall, so she could hear them more.

“Yeah, I know.” He said. “My parents are out of town, so I was blaring it really loud.”

Lizzy assumed he was talking about the music.

“Oh, really? That’s, um, great.” He paused, listening to Mia. “No, I’m just...” He paused again. “Uh, well, my dad will be home around ten, so, no, probably not.” An aggravated look suddenly appeared on his face. “I know its only 7:30; I’m just saying he probably wouldn’t be real happy about it.” He sighed. “He could find out.” Then he flopped down on the couch. “I don’t know, Gwen might tell him or something.” Then he ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, okay, okay. I know we haven’t gotten together in a while, so maybe tomorrow, all right?” His vexed looked disappeared. “Okay. All right.”

Lizzy crept in closer. She wanted to hear Mia’s voice before the call ended. Finally, she heard something.

“Bye, Mia,” Braden said. I love you, said the voice on the other end of the call.

Lizzy nearly fainted. She didn’t even hear if Braden said “I love you” back, she was so mortified. How in the world could I be so gullible? How could I think a guy like him would be without a girlfriend? How? HOW? The depressing, crushing words rushed around in her head: I love you, I love you, I love, I love you…

The sound of Braden’s voice shook Lizzy out of her state of shock. Yet, she still couldn’t believe it.

“Sorry about that,” Braden said. “Did you get the cakes out of the oven?”

Lizzy nodded. “Yes,” she said meekly.

“Did they turn out okay?” Braden asked.

“Yeah,” Lizzy replied. She couldn’t think of any other thing to say.

Braden looked at Lizzy, confused. “You alright? You’re looking a little off-color...” He said.

Lizzy then forced herself to smile. “Yes, I’m fine.” She said.

“Okay,” Braden acted like he believed her. “Now, all we have to do is mix together the filling and---‘’

Lizzy cut him off. “You know, I’m feeling sort of tired from dancing so much. Do you mind if I go upstairs?” it took Lizzy every ounce of power in her mind not to cry.

A barely visible look of melancholy appeared on Braden’s face. “Uh,” he looked slightly confused. “Sure.”

He looked beyond perplexed, and a little dejected. But Lizzy didn’t care. She felt stupid now.

 “nks…” Was all she could get out. And with that, she left Braden in the kitchen with two pie cakes, an unfinished filling, dirty dishes and spoons. But all she could feel was rejection. Typical, Lizzy thought. Average girl falls for guy who is incredibly hot and finds out he has a girlfriend. Typical, typical, typical. Finally, when Lizzy reached her room, all of her tears came sheeting down. She flopped on her bed with the most hopeless feeling she had ever felt.

 I’m so stupid. Hoping for a guy like him. Lizzy became beyond frustrated with herself. She tried to get the tears to go away, but they kept coming, like someone forgot to turn off the garden hose.

And all she could hear were those three words echoing: I love you, I love, I love you…

Reviews

[compositionc]

WHAT?
NO BRADEN AND LIZZY YET?
that's jenk, man.

[Short.Nerd]

Aww.... it was such a sweet chapter and then BAM some chick named Mia calls? O.o tsk tsk...... I can't wait to see where this goes :D