Dream Chaser

by Angie Stanton

I aimed my butcher knife at him. “Do you really want to hassle the girl with the knife?”

  “You’re right. It’s brilliant.” He held up his hands to fend me off.

  “Thank you.” I returned my attention to the onions.

  “So, how’s that working out for you?”

  “Not sure, I can’t really see what I’m cutting.”

  “Is it too late to order a pizza?” He said with a lazy smile and relaxed tilt of his head. The little grey flecks in his eyes caught the light.

  “You’re damaging my delicate ego?”

  “I’m just trying to protect us from food poisoning.”

  “There. That’s all the vegetables.” I dumped the onions into a large bowl with the other veggies. “On to the chicken!” I raised my knife in the air.

  I owed the Foods teacher two more meals, for the days I missed school after my big fall. Next week, I’d miss one more cooking day because of the show, so this was my warm-up meal.

  I lifted a slimy chicken breast from the package. “This is disgusting. What’s all that white stringy stuff hanging off?”

  “I believe it’s fat.” His eyes danced with humor.

  “Gross.” I crinkled my face and flopped the poultry on the cutting board, its slippery juice oozed around it. Disgusted, I stuck my tongue out and tried not to gag.

  Eli cracked up. I wasn’t trying to be funny.

  I placed the knife on the chicken and tried to cut it into strips, but the whole gloppy piece moved with the motion of the knife. I pushed harder and broke through the skin. “Come on you pathetic piece of poultry, cut!” I concentrated and pushed harder. Finally I had to hold the chicken in place with my hand so it wouldn’t slide back and forth as I sawed.

  “I am never eating chicken again.” I finished up the rest and dumped the slop in with the veggies.

  “Are you sure that should be touching the vegetables?”

  “Why not? It’s all getting cooked together anyway.”

  “I’m just saying. And you need to wash everything that touched the raw chicken with hot soapy water. Including your hands.”

  “What? These hands?” I came at him with my slimified hands.

  “Get those away from me, you sicko.” He jumped off the counter then turned on the tap to hot.

  “You’re such a germaphobe.” I stuck my hands under the warming water.

  “No, I just want to live to do the show. I’d be really pissed to miss it because you didn’t clean the raw chicken off your hands. There’s going to be a casting agent there who I need to impress and meet with.”

  “Okay, Doctor Oz. I’m washing.”

  “Don’t forget the knife and cutting board too.” He pointed.

  “Fine.” I plugged the sink and filled it with hot soapy water.

  After detoxing my hands, I sloshed oil in the pan, dumped in the bowl of ingredients and turned the stove on high to get it going. I grabbed the measuring spoons and poured out the salt and dumped it in too.

  “Isn’t that a lot of salt?” Eli jumped up and sat on the counter next to the stove while I worked. He looked all tall and cute, and I kept pretending to accidentally bump his arm.

  “You are such a critic.”

  “You just poured in a heaping tablespoon of salt. That seems like a lot.”

  “Look genius, it says one t of salt.” I shoved the print out of the recipe at him.

  “Excuse me? Small t means teaspoon, capital T means tablespoon, and it doesn’t say heaping. You just put in about five times too much.”

  “Oh.”

  I reached in with my fingers and grabbed a few pinches out and dumped it on the counter. “There. That should be better.” I wiped my hands on my jeans.

  Eli shook his head.

  I nudged his knee. “I’ve gotta get the lid.” Eli stretched his knees apart. I opened the cupboard door and reached past his legs for the thick glass lid. I set it on the pot.

  “Ta da!” I said and took a bow.

  “Alright Emeril. You’re a rock star,” he said. “You remember how many times we hung out in this kitchen while your mom made us cookies?”

  “Yeah, a lot.” I returned the olive oil and salt to the pantry.

  “They were the weirdest cookies I ever ate, but I loved them. They were a lot better than the boxed kind my mom bought.”

  “How is Hillary?” His mom’s name was really Ruth, but she was a lawyer for the most prestigious law firm in town, Schmidt, McAvoy and Allen. I grabbed the wastebasket and scooped the unused veggie remnants into the trash.

  “She’s obsessed with getting nominated to the State Senate.” He grabbed an orange from a bowl on the counter and tossed it in the air. “Which is good for me, because she’s gone all the time at some fundraiser or another.”

  “And The Donald?” I leaned against the counter across from him.

  “The ole man is pissed his son isn’t working to his full potential,” Eli mimicked and gripped the orange. “He’s determined I follow in the McAvoy footsteps and go to Northwestern for my undergrad and Harvard for a MBA. You know Elliott, four generations of McAvoys have attended Harvard.”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t picture Eli in big business. It would suffocate his carefree personality, not to mention totally squash his creativity. “Ease up on the fruit, you’re making orange juice.”

  “Sorry.” He returned it to the bowl.

  Eli’s dad was a power hungry mergers and acquisition guru. One look at Eli, and I could see how the pressure from his parents weighed on his normal light-hearted attitude.

  “Can you tell him you want something different? That you aren’t like him?” I couldn’t imagine my parents forcing me to do anything I didn’t want to.

  “He knows I’m not like him. Not in the slightest bit.” Eli shook his head and I wanted to give him a hug to wash away the pain of his home life.

  Then he got this screwy look on his face and said, “Speaking of wanting something different, do you really want to be with that guy Rick?”

  He caught me off guard. Rick had been an excuse to show Eli I really did have a life and that someone cared about me. I grabbed the dishtowel and started twisting it. I looked at Eli who watched me with something more than casual curiosity.

  “No. I don’t want to be with Rick. Fact is I lied about that.” Embarrassed to be caught in my own lie, I shifted from one foot to the other.

  Confusion shaded Eli’s eyes. “But you said you two were going out.”

  “Yeah, that wasn’t true. I made that up.”

  “Then why did you say that?”

  “We were at Messerschmidt Road, and I didn’t want you to think I was a total loser. Girls are always hanging around you, and you’re probably going out all the time.” The dishtowel stretched as I continued to strangle it. “I was nervous and didn’t want to look pathetic. For all I know you have a girlfriend!”

  I’d never even thought of that before! Shit. I wanted to slink away and never come back. Why hadn’t I asked him?

  Eli must have been able to read my thoughts. He lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side in that special way of his.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.” He leaned back on his hands as his legs hung over the side of the counter.

  My dishtowel twisting ceased. “You don’t?”

  “Nope.” He smiled, showing off his pearly whites.

  I stared, dumbfounded. I was relieved he didn't have a girlfriend, but confused at what to think or do about it.

  “Ah, Willow?” he said glancing past me.

  “Why not?”

  “Ah, Willow, it’s burning.”

  “What’s burning?” I said.

  “You’re chicken cacci trouble.”

  Sure enough, the smell of charred chicken filled the air.

  “Oh no!” I quick grabbed the lid to help it cool down. The scorching heat burned my fingers. “Shit!” I dropped the glass lid, it crashed against the stove, broke and fell to the floor. “Dammit
, I burned my hand.”

  “Quick, get it under cold water.” Eli hopped off the counter, grabbed me by the wrist, pulled my hand under the faucet and turned it on full blast cold. The water soothed it immediately.

  “You know, maybe cooking isn’t such a good idea.” He turned the stove off, turned on the overhead fan and used the oven mitt to push the pot off the hot burner.

  I examined my burned fingers and thumb. Eli’s arms came around me, took my hand and pushed it back under the faucet.

  “Keep it under the water,” He said super close to my ear.

  “It’s freezing cold.” I turned my head and looked up at him, his face was mere inches away.

  My breath caught.

  His eyes grazed mine. “It’ll feel better,” he whispered and held my hand captive under the water, numbing my fingers. His body brushed against me, putting my nerve endings on high alert.

  Suddenly, any thoughts of my burned hand evaporated with the scorching awareness of Eli’s arms wrapped around me like a blanket. I didn’t move a muscle, afraid of the sensations coursing through me. Then I relaxed and leaned against him just enough that I could feel the strength of his body on mine, and he wouldn’t notice. I released a sigh.

  His arms hugged closer, locking me in the glory of his touch. I leaned my head against his neck and sighed. The beat of his heart pulsed against my back. Cold tap water rushed over our hands, his breath warmed my cheek.

  “Thanks, it feels better,” I whispered.

  “Are you sure?” He tilted his head to look at me and let our hands drift away from the water.

  “Yeah,” I angled to see him but not disturb his gentle hold. Our eyes connected and gravity pulled us together.

  Eli’s lips parted and he kissed me. Long and slow.

  “Was that practice for the show?” I murmured.

  “No. That was for me.” His eyes searched mine to see if I’d run. “Is that okay?”

  I nodded. I wasn't running anywhere.

  “Good.” His mouth settled on mine. I leaned against him. He tilted my chin closer. His fingers caressed my neck. I’m pretty sure I had died and gone to heaven.

  I turned and wrapped my arms around him. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I gazed into the depths of Eli’s eyes, aware of him for the first time.

  “Where have you been hiding?” I whispered.

  “Right here. Waiting for you.” He smiled, his dark eyes all dreamy. He reached past me to turn off the water and then wrapped his arms around my waist and looped his thumbs in the top of my jeans.

  If I wasn’t so stunned to realize how much I really liked Eli, I might have felt embarrassed. All those years together and I never saw him this way. I guess the attraction had been fighting to come out ever since my audition. Why had I been so stupid and blind? I caressed his back.

  “You’re hands are freezing,” he said.

  “That’s your fault.”

  “As I recall, you’re the one that burned your hand.”

  “This is true. I’m glad I did, or I’d never have seen you clearly.”

  His smile lit the whole room. “It’s about damned time.”

  Eli took my hands and linked his warm fingers with my cold ones being careful not to touch my burn, then wrapped our arms around my back. Holding me captive, he took my mouth with his. We went from zero to sixty in mere seconds.

  After long minutes of exploring the contours of Eli’s lips and mouth. He sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. “I think this would be a good time to order that pizza.”

  Leave it to Eli to be the responsible one. “You don’t want charred chicken caccatore?”

  “No, I definitely don’t want that.”

  I pulled him in for a slow kiss. “You’d rather have pizza than this?” I breathed.

  “Hell no! But we’ll need energy to make it through the night.”

  * * *

  After eating a little pizza, we turned on the stereo and picked up where we left off, this time on the comfort of the couch.

  Eli held me in his arms; my world had never been better. He brushed a wisp of hair off my cheek and behind my ear than wove his fingers deep through my hair. His mouth moved over mine with gentle kisses. Like an engine, my heart started at a slow idle and now revved out of control. I disappeared into this new world we’d discovered.

  I lifted my head and discovered a deep hunger in his eyes. I felt a passion I didn’t know possible. He held my face, his gorgeous eyes pulled me in like a fish on a line.

  With our legs tangled together, his hands roamed my every curve sending tingles to new places. He ran his hands over my jeans, and caressed my bottom. The sensations coursing through me awakened every nerve ending. He pulled me closer, our bodies intimate. Hungry. Without realizing, I squirmed for more, and Eli groaned with desire.

  And that's how Mom, Dad and Breezy found us when they barged in, carry-on bags in hand.

  I don’t think Eli’d ever moved so fast in his life. Unfortunately, our legs were linked and as he tried to leap off me, we ended up on the floor.

  “Hi Eli, whatcha doing?” Breezy asked as if it was an everyday occurrence to find him wrapped around me like a pretzel.

  I pulled my shirt down as we struggled off the floor.

  “Uh, yeah. Hi Squirt.” Eli floundered for words. “Willow asked me to come over and help her make out, I mean make up one of her cooking assignments.”

  “And how’s that going?” Dad tipped his head toward the barely touched pizza on the coffee table. I couldn’t think of a single word to say.

  “Oh that, oh, well, sir. It burned. The dinner that is.”

  “It seems really hot in here. Ralph, did you notice?” Mom fanned herself.

  “Sure is. I’d say steamy,” he answered with a straight face.

  “You’re right. Maybe we should open a window to cool it down in here.”

  “Good idea. These poor kids look overheated.” Mom bit back a smile.

  I rolled my eyes. There was no stopping them now.

  "It’s a good thing Willow doesn’t cook more often.”

  “True. They could burn the house down.” Dad acted concerned.

  “That, or we might be grandparents soon,” Mom said matter-of-factly.

  “Mom! Dad! Stop it!” I interrupted.

  They grinned, so proud of themselves. I wanted to throw some of Breezy’s paints at them.

  “You’re gonna be a grandma?” Breezy asked. “Who’s having a baby?”

  “Oh. My. God!” I said.

  Eli’s cheeks turned pink, a sight rarely seen.

  “And to think we were worried she’d be lonely.” Mom shook her head.

  “I don’t think she’s lonely. Breezy, does your sister look lonely to you?” Dad said.

  “Not so much.” She shook her head, finally catching up to the conversation and joining their evil game.

  “Enough already!” I stood up, Eli followed.

  “Sir, I’m really sorry...”

  “Eli, it’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been, son?” Dad held out his hand.

  “He looks pretty happy to me,” Mom answered, fighting back a grin. I gave her the evil eye.

  “Hello, sir. I mean Mr. Thomas.” A confused Eli shook his hand.

  It was strange to see Dad and Eli, now the same height, standing eye to eye. Last time I saw them together, my dad took him fishing down at Bowman Park years ago.

  “I think you’re old enough to call me Ralph,” Dad said.

  “Thank you. I will.”

  Poor Eli. I wanted to hug him and smooth down his hair where it stuck out funny from all our, uh, fun.

  “You got big,” Breezy said.

  “Hey Squirt, so have you. Last time I saw you, you were only this tall." He held his hand out to show how small Breezy once stood.

  She giggled. “Wanna see my tattoo?”

  Eli looked at Mom and Dad as if they’d actually let an eight year old get a tattoo.

  “It�
��s a spider.” Breezy dropped her coat and held out her forearm to reveal a lick and stick tattoo.

  He bent over to examine it. “Wow, that’s really scary.”

  “Thanks. Wanna see my coffin?”

  “Breezy, leave him alone,” I said.

  “I should really be going.” Eli took his first opportunity to escape. I wished I could escape with him!

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Dad asked.

  “You can have more pizza or maybe take a cold shower?” Mom offered as she choked back laughter.

  Man, I mention I hate my family sometimes.

  Chapter 30

  A few days later, right before I left for my voice lesson torture with Gloria, Mom gave me an address and directions to some place in Fitchburg.

  “What’s this?” I knew immediately I wouldn’t like it.

  “I don’t know. Your voice teacher called a few minutes ago and said you needed to meet her at this address.” Mom feigned ignorance.

  “That is evil and cruel and mean.”

  “You shouldn’t talk about her that way. She’s working very hard to help you.”

  “I’m not talking about Gloria. I’m talking about you!” Mom knew exactly what Gloria was up to and I knew she wouldn’t spill it.

  “Oh, in that case, thank you!” She kissed my cheek. “You better hurry. Don’t want to be late.”

  I slammed the door on my way out. Why, when things were finally going so well, did I have to still be tortured? The last few days, things with Eli were better than ever. We’d grown closer and closer since the night I tried to cook him dinner. I still can’t believe how blind I was. I guess it was fear. This super hot guy with more talent than anyone I know—except Tyson, of course—wanted me! I get to spend time with him every single day. God, life is good.

  I pulled out of the drive and called him. We now spent every spare second together and talked on the phone the rest of the time.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey you.” His voice sounded like cool magic.

  “Whatcha doing?” I asked.

  “Other than thinking about you?”

  “You are such a suck up!” I laughed

  “I thought for sure you’d fall for it.” The low rumble of his laugh made me smile.