Making Him Fall

Chapter Two: The Cook-Off

Making Him Fall

~ Chapter Two ~

~ The Cook-Off ~

"Just as I remember it," Mrs Springer reminisced, pulling her bags into our house.

"You can take the guest room," I said to Mr and Mrs Springer who left to get settled in, mumbling about taking a nap.

"What about me, Zarah?" Maddie beamed.

"You can bunk with me, and Harry can share a room with Troy," I said, choosing the boy closest to Harry's age.

"Okay," Harry smiled, taking his stuff up to Troy's room.

"Gee Zarah, I was four when we left. I can't even remember where your bedroom is," Maddie explained.

"Up the stairs, third door on the left," I laughed.

Maddie left to go and get settled. I spotted Liz sitting on the lounge and decided to join her.

"He seems nice," Liz began. "Good pick."

"Thanks," I laughed.

"What's your plan, Casanova?"

"How did you know I would have a plan?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have a plan for everything?"

"Name one thing other than this!" I challenged.

"May fourth, 2004. A young girl of the name Zarah Heywood approaches an equally young girl called Liz Wilson. Heywood offers Wilson half a chicken sandwich, neglecting to inform her that it contained mayo. Wilson accepted, beginning to eat before needing to be admitted to the hospital due to her allergic reaction to mayonnaise. Whilst in ambulance, a crying Heywood explains how it was part of a plan to make us become best friends. Wilson points out that it backfired horribly. All is forgiven."

"Point taken," I said reluctantly.

"So you were psycho even AFTER I left."

I whipped my head around to see Harry standing there, arms folded, a smirk playing on his face.

"Hey!" I snapped.

"I'm joking, Z," he laughed. "Don't worry."

"Funny," I said sarcastically.

"So what's on TV?" He asked, plopping down on the lounge.

"Teen Mum," Liz said.

We loved our reality TV shows.

My phone began to vibrate, playing an electronic William Tell.

"Hello?"

"Yo Zar," Kyle, my brother's, voice came through the receiver.

"Oh it's you. How did the races go?" I asked.

"Not bad, I got two-hundred-fifty bucks and made it onto the state comp."

"Good job!" I beamed.

Kyle had never made it that far.

"What about Troy?" I asked about my older brother.

"He's a bit pissed off, he did real bad. Only got twenty bucks prize money."

I laughed, imagining Troy's exact expression.

"He made out with a few chicks though, so all's good," Kyle continued.

That was Troy alright. The sixteen-year-old player. He always had some girl or another hanging off him. Kyle was the complete opposite; Kyle was very sweet and sometimes even shy.