I took in a deep breath. Technically, Don was my boyfriend now. And technically, we weren’t. So did I owe him an explanation? I don’t know… No. I didn’t. I would respect Angelo’s privacy.
“He always gets like that as Valentine’s approaches,” I lied.
“Oh,” he said. “So you guys take this Valentine’s thing really seriously, huh? That’s unhealthy.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said passively. I wasn’t in the mood to interact with Don, especially since he was the reason there was tension between me and Angelo.
“Do you both become more sad and angry and things as Valentine’s comes closer?” he asked. “You seem upset, too.”
“I’m just tired,” I lied again. “We’ve been walking around and performing all day just to come home to practice and then do the whole thing over again tomorrow.”
“It wasn’t because Melissa talked to you?” Don asked.
“What?” I turned to face him. “She didn’t come to talk to me.”
“Oh?” he looked down. “I just assumed since she went to talk to me. She asked me if there was something going on between us.”
“And then?” I pressed.
“I said we were together,” he replied.
“And then?” I pressed on.
“Nothing,” he answered. “She stormed off. I wouldn’t really blame her. But that’s why I thought she maybe talked to you about it.”
“She didn’t,” I pressed my lips together. Oh, right. We weren’t really together. That was the reason there was tension between me and Angelo.
“But it’s good,” he comforted. “It means it’s working.”
“That’s good,” I grimaced. Oh yeah. That said it all about my progress. Down the drain. Did I even stand a chance? Should I keep trying. Change topic. Change topic. “So,” I broke the silence. “Why do you love Valentine’s Day?”
“Well,” he began, “I guess that’s because of my grandmother.”
“What about her?” I asked, half genuinely curious.
“Well, she died when I was kind of young, so I didn’t know her very well,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” I looked down.
“It’s alright,” he shrugged. “It’s just that I figure she was a really nice lady. When I was looking through the attic… This was when I was maybe ten… I saw this chest full of love letters addressed to her. Man, did they have really nice handwriting back then. But there were a lot. And they weren’t all from my grandpa. I read some of them, and they were pretty hard core. Undying love and all that.Like she was that beautiful.”
“That’s nice,” I smiled. “Do you see pictures of her?”
“Yeah, she was really beautiful,” he replied. “But the best thing about that chest I found was this recipe for chocolate cookies. Chocochoco chip? Like, the cookie itself was chocolate, and there were chocolate chips. I had my mom make them, and it was absolutely delicious. Probably the best dessert I’ve ever tasted.”
“Yeah?” my smile grew.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “And so, my mom makes them every Valentine’s Day, because to make them during my birthday or Christmas is too mainstream or something. I guess I just get really excited for those cookies.”
“You really like those cookies, huh?” I chuckled.
“Yeah,” his eyes lit up, and I knew that he truly loved them. “They’re the absolute best. I can finish a single batch in one sitting, just because they’re that good. They’re sweet but not so much that you get sick of them.”
“Sounds good,” I smiled and then looked down. And that was when I realized what One Direction meant when they said “but when you smile at the ground”. I chuckled once to myself.
“What?” Don asked, chuckling himself. I noticed that he was particularly susceptible to laughing.
“Just thought about the smiling at the ground thing,” I chuckled as I answered him, wondering if he even understood what I’d managed to blurt out.
“Well, you pull it off really well,” he remarked. I looked up at him, my smile fading into neutrality. “You still remember?” he asked. “That time I took your picture?”
“Of course I do,” I said. “I never forgot.”
“You still have the same smile I liked back then,” the corner of his mouth twitched up to form that candid asymmetrical smile I loved. “And I still like it now.”
I could feel myself blush, but this time was a little different for some reason. There was no feeling of embarrassment attached, perhaps. It was just this nice warm feeling, like taking a shower with warm water, except: instead of the warmth travelling from the skin inwards, it was travelling from the chest outwards towards my extremities. It was easy to trace. My cheeks.My upset stomach. The energy my limbs suddenly got. It was a nice feeling, except for the fact that I felt the need to punch and kick something… Or crush some stuffed toy. If only Don was my classmate in History.
Then, I found myself leaning into Don. His face was only a few inches from mine. Was this the moment I’d been fantasizing about for so long? Was it really going to happen? Finally?
Just then, Angelo came back in, and I found myself very abruptly moving away.
“Alright,” Angelo stretched as he sat at his keyboard. “From the chorus, everybody?”
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded and looked at Don from the corner of my eye. He looked at me and then at Angelo, and then back at me.
“One, two, three, four…”
** * * *
Once Don and Angelo left, I stared at the empty space in the garage.
Somehow, I was missing Don. We weren’t really together. I knew that. He confirmed it. But something about what he said…
“You still have the same smile I liked back then, and I still like it now.”
His voice very faintly echoed through my mind.
“You still have the same smile I liked back then, and I still like it now.”
He liked my smile… He still did… Even after all this time…
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
This is exactly why I find boys to be completely and utterly frustrating. They think us girls are irrational? Granted, we are. I would know, because I am one. But they’re just as cryptic as we are. Jeez. Why couldn’t he just tell me straight up that he wasn’t interested? Granted, he has explicitly expressed his interest in another girl. But still! Why would he say things like:
“You still have the same smile I liked back then, and I still like it now”?
Huh? Somebody please explain that to me. Otherwise, I shall interpret it as such: He does have feelings for me…
Don might have feelings for me… Which means I have a shot…Which means I need to do something.
And I know exactly what that something was going to be.
At that moment, my fate was sealed.
The kitchen would be, more or less, covered in chocolate.
I rushed into the kitchen. My parents weren’t home yet. I knew this because the fact that we had space enough to practice in the garage… I had plenty of time to bake something, clean up, and then act as if nothing happened.
A recipe! A recipe! My kingdom for a recipe! … If I had a kingdom…And if I didn’t have the internet on my side.
I rushed upstairs, our big brown Labrador, who, up until a few moments ago, had been lazily lying on the front mat, chasing after me. I ran into my room and turned on my computer. I accessed a recipe for chocolate chip cookies, and then carried it with me downstairs, running a little more carefully with Mocha still chasing after me.
It should have occurred to me that Mocha was probably hungry and that he probably assumed that I was rushing to the kitchen to fix him something. That was my first mistake.
I psyched myself up. So I’d never baked a thing in my entire life. How difficult could it be? After all, I had a recipe… Ranked four-point-five average by about three thousand users. It had to be a good recipe.
Chapter 4
Okay… one cup of butter, softened�
�� We had a bar of butter… How many cups is that? Well I figured that butter makes everything delicious, so I decided to take out the whole bar.
I started murmur-singing to myself as I moved around the kitchen. “We don’t have any walnuts so I’ll just lessen the sugar… Make it one cup instead and add some all-purpose flour… Mocha, please stop barking, why are you barking…”
Salt? Are you supposed to put salt in desserts? Well, it was in the recipe, so I shrugged and added just a dash.
And about that softened butter… I mixed everything else, and that butter was still more or less solid. I had the best time trying to mix it up. I probably spent about five minutes just stabbing at it. And now there were giant lumps. I spent the next ten minutes very violently trying to flatten them and break them up.
That was when all the chaos started.
I had lost my grip on the bowl and the whole thing tilted onto its side, all the thick, chocolate-y contents spilling onto the counter, flowing over the side and plopping onto the floor. I quickly stabilized the bowl back to its right position, but more than half of the mix had been lost by then.
Just then, I spied Mocha sniffing the mess on the floor, and I was sharply reminded that dogs couldn’t eat chocolate; if they did they’d die.
“Mocha, no!” I shrieked.
Mocha then proceeded to trample over the puddle and run between my legs, causing me to lose my balance. I tried to grip onto the counter, but my hand slipped because of the chocolate. I fell into the mess of chocolate. I tried to get up, but Mocha passed me again and I just slipped some more, making an even bigger mess of that area on the floor. When I finally managed to regain my balance, I looked all over the kitchen to find that there were paw-shaped chocolate prints all over the floor. I remembered that I still had to catch Mocha before he managed to lick any of it off. The next five minutes consisted of me trying to restrain her and, as a result, messing up another big section of the floor.
That’s when I noticed the front door closing.
“Ruby, we’re home,” I heard my dad call from the hallway.
Oh no…
Just then, my dad was standing frozen at the door of the kitchen.
“Honey,” my mom soon entered the scene as well, “what’s…” She stood there staring at me as well. He mouth gaping open.
I stood up and looked down, realizing how much of my self was covered in chocolate… Almost everything. It looked like I went mud wrestling.
“Okay. Before you say anything, I think I have the right to explain why everything is covered in chocolate.”
That’s how it all happened. I told them about the fiasco with the dog, and my dad laughed, saying that I was probably overreacting to the whole “dogs being allergic to chocolate thing”. The rest of the night was spent as such:
First my mom had me shower. I rinsed my clothes while I was in there before putting them in the hamper. By the time I got back to the kitchen, my mom had cleaned up the entire floor. She was a miracle worker. Then I had to lie and say I was making the cookies for Angelo, saying he was having a particularly bad Valentine’s. They accused us of being in a relationship, and I had to sit through an hour of “the talk”. Waiting until marriage.Family planning.Love. Ugh. It was a wonderful night.
By the end of it, my mom agreed to help me finish the cookies. There were still a lot of them by the end, so you could imagine how many more cookies could’ve been made but, instead, fell victim to my sheer stupidity. They were okay. Very sweet. The way Don described his grandmother’s recipe, my cookies must’ve ended up being very different. Oh, well. I hoped he would just appreciate the effort.
Unfortunately for me, Angelo turned out to be correct. Just because you will something to be so, doesn’t mean it will be so. Just because you wish with all your heart that something will happen a certain way, doesn’t mean it will. I knew this all along, and I chose to believe.
I happily walked down the halls, holding a Tupperware in hand. So I wouldn’t get points for presentation. I was happy. I was almost skipping. I’d tried something new, and I was excited to see Don’s reaction.
That excitement was crushed when as I was approaching Don’s locker. There he was, kissing Melissa Kier.
I should’ve known.
I turned around so I wouldn’t have to see it. I started to walk away when Don called me,
“Hey, Ruby!”
Asshole.
I took in a deep breath and turned to face him,
“Hey, Don, what’s up?”
“Didn’t you see when you passed by?” he asked excitedly.
“Huh?” I acted confused. “Oh, why? What happened?”
“Melissa and I got back together! It worked!” he cheered.
“Oh, that’s great,” I kept on nodding. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” he smiled and then petted my head, “but I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the best.” He hugged me, and I wish I had a knife so I could stab him in the heart.
“Oh, it was no problem,” I was nodding again. I swallowed. Then I nodded some more, unsure what to say.
“What’s that?” Don asked, pointing to the Tupperware in my hands.
“Oh, this?” I held it up. I decided to act like it was nothing. “It’s nothing… It’s…” I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to paint a more noble image of myself than I deserved. “I made these for you… to give to Melissa. I thought it would help with... I mean… What girl doesn’t like sensitive guy who bakes and… yeah.”
“You really are the greatest,” Don hugged me again. “Can I try one?”
Something about that question set me off. “Of course. They were made for you after all,” I rolled my eyes and shoved the Tupperware of cookies into his chest.
“You okay, Ruby?” he asked. “Did I do something?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m just feeling really sick…” I decided to do one last thing to spite him. “I think all this serenading has strained my throat. I don’t think I’ll be good for the fair tomorrow.”
His eyes widened, “What? Ruby, no. We can’t find someone so last minute.”
“You’re going to have to try,” I coughed exaggeratedly. “I really don’t think I could make it.”
“What if we don’t find a singer in time?” he panicked. “And what about the money you were supposed to earn.”
“I don’t know, Don,” I was visibly irritated. “Maybe you could use my pay as prize money for people who can the sing the songs for you. Make a contest or game show out of it or something. I don’t know. You’re smart. You’ll find something.” Without waiting for his response, I walked away.
As I stormed off in the direction of the girls bathroom, I almost bumped into Angelo, the last person I wanted to see.
“Hey, Ruby, where you off to in such a hurry?” he asked.
“Oh,” I was losing it. “You want me to just stand here while you gloat, huh? Is that how this friendship works? How about I save you the saliva. You were right. Don is a jerk. He got back together with Melissa because I didn’t try hard enough. And yeah. I got hurt! So congratulations! You were right. Again!” I started to try and walk around him when he mirrored my movements, and put his hands on my arms to steady me,
“Whoa, Ruby, calm down. What happened?”
I jerked my way backwards so he would get his hands off me. “Did you not hear what I just said? Don and Melissa got back together.”
“Oh, man,” he put a hand on his nape, “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” I accused. “You knew this was going to happen.”
“Okay,” he took a step back. “If you want me to be honest, I’m not really sorry. I did warn you.”
“I know you did,” I crossed my arms and looked down. Uh oh.Waterworks time. “I just… I feel so embarrassed. I mean, we pretended to be together… And then I stayed up last night baking cookies and I messed up the entire kitchen and-”
“Whoa,” Angelo was surprised. “You
baked? Wow… You must… really like this guy.”
“I did,” I frowned. “But you were right. What was the point of all the waiting? It was pathetic.”
“No, no,” he put an arm around me and walked with me down the hall. “You are just really passionate and… like that guy from ‘500 Days of Summer’. You know, assigning cosmic significance to events or something like that.”
“Which is stupid,” I added.
“No, it’s not,” he looked at me. “It’s refreshing. Sometimes it’s nice to believe in something. If it makes you feel good, then it’s all good.”
I sniffed, “Thanks, Angelo. You always know what to say.”
“Yeah, I do,” he joked, and I pushed him away. Then it occurred to me,
“Um, Angelo, I kind of did something to try and spite Don which directly affects you.”
“What?” he asked.
“I lied and told him I was sick and that you guys had to find a new singer.”
Angelo paused he looked down and held out a finger, like he was signalling me to wait for something. “While under normal circumstances I would’ve have applauded the gesture,” he began, “at this moment in time I just have to say…” He took in a deep breath. “Why, Ruby? Why?”
** * * *
It was the day of the fair – Hearts Day.
The school had set it up in the giant football field. All the booths and some rides. Everything was a predictably sickening combination of whites, reds and pinks. Although, from where I was sitting – all the way up on the highest row of the bleachers – I spotted some gold’s and silvers. If it had been any other Valentine’s Day, I might have appreciated the attempt to break out from the norm. Might have. But today I just shrugged.
You were required to attend, so I came and had my wrist stamped so I could say I was there. But I had no interest in participating. I surely had nothing to celebrate about.
After all, when it came to tracing Melissa and Don’s course at the fair, I suddenly had the vision of an eagle. He got her a rose and a card. Then they shared some cotton candy. Pink, of course. Then they went on the Ferris wheel together… twice. And then he won her a stuffed bear by playing some sort of booth game.
To meet You Again Page 4
