Chasing Air // Billie Eilish

Chapter 14

BILLIE'S P.O.V

"Well. I'm not very good at cooking so there's not much I can do." I opened the fridge. "There's only so much I can do."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Do you like pasta?"

"That's vague."

"Let me cook." She opened the pantry.

"You cook?" I questioned skeptically. She continued to surprise me every day.

"Yeah. Jeremiah definitely didn't. I like eating good food, Bobby, so I have to do it myself."

"Wow. So you're claiming that you're  good at it?" I teased.

She shrugged. "My grandma taught me a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah. My family's big on cooking. We use my... let's see. My gran's grandma... so my great, great gran's recipes."

"That's cool."

"Yeah. We used to have family Christmas at my gran's house every year and she'd make this lasagna that was my great, great gran's recipe, but she still hasn't let me have that one yet. I don't know what it is. I definitely don't think I'll be getting it now since I don't live near her anymore, and we don't have family Christmas' anymore."

"Why not?"

She laughed, shrugging. "Nobody left. Except me and her. Anyways, let me think for a second. It has to be vegan, of course, so... how about..." She clicked her tongue. "Penne arrabbiata."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows and she laughs. "Where the fuck did you just pull that from?"

"It's pasta."

"What's it called again?"

"Penne arrabbiata," she repeated, slower this time.

"Oh, okay. That's not English."

She laughed, shaking her head. "No. It's not. It's Italian. Arrabbiata means angry."

"So, why's it called that?"

"It's spicy."

"Ooh."

"Actually, we're not gonna do that because we don't really have what we need. When I lived with Jeremiah, obviously he didn't do anything, so since I was the one who cooked, I did the grocery shopping and this is something I used to make often—so we always had what I needed to make it."

"I think my friend Zoe is coming over in a little bit. If you wanna make it you can go down to the grocery store and grab what you need. Also, I keep this on the fridge." I pointed to the notepad on the fridge. "It's my grocery list. If you ever think of something you want, just add it on there."

She nodded slowly. I knew she was probably not gonna add anything on there. I quickly learned that she didn't like asking for things. Ever. No matter what it was. "Well, the question is, do you want me to cook?"

"Do you want to cook?" I asked and she rolled her eyes. "Well, I mean, yeah. I'd love for you to cook but you don't have to."