[BoyxBoy] ✓ I Fell In Love With An Emo Boy

22. CAKE

You're sixteen already.

I'm so proud of you, kid. I knew you'd make it this far. You're so strong. I'm incredibly proud of you and mature as you are, I'm always here if you still need your daddy.

I love you, bud. Happy birthday,

Dad.

Even I was feeling a little sentimental. What a hero.

Timothy turned on some music. It was in the background but since it was mostly distorted guitars and screaming it just sounded like fucking white noise.

Timothy had unwrapped all his gifts. He was grateful and happy but he seemed most excited about the card which got a special place on his nightstand.

Now T was baking a cake which he'd told me was a ritual of his. The only problem was that he sucked at baking.

"That's way too much baking soda. It's going to taste like fucking soap." I said as I leaned on my hand.

"The recipe called for a tablespoon. I just eyeballed it."

"That's not a fucking tablespoon!"

"Are you sure?" T cocked his head and stared at the bowl.

"Are you stupid? That's like three times a tablespoon and you know you can't eyeball something when you never bake or cook!"

"I told you, this is a ritual! I do bake!"

"Yeah, once a year, doofus! And I doubt last year's cake was edible!"

"It was!"

I gave him a look.

"...Dad helped me."

I sighed and got up. "You're an idiot. Show me the recipe."

T shoved me a black cook book. It was supposed to turn out as a white chocolate-vanilla cake.

"Why the hell did you put the eggs in there?"

"Cause you're supposed to. Look." T pointed to the ingredient list.

"Wet and dry go separate, then you combine them in the end!"

"What does it matter?'

"Do you want lumps? How dumb are you?"

T looked at the recipe. "Oh.."

"Yeah, oh. Move over."

T stepped aside and I calculated how the recipe would turn out for three cakes. I grabbed a bigger bowl.

"Guess it'll be a two tier cake. One big one and a small one on top."

"You know how to make that?" T asked.

"It's not that hard. Give me the flour."

We were working together on making T's birthday cake. And I gotta admit. It was pretty fun. I never did anything for my birthday. My dad and I never made cake. I usually spent mine at Dave's and they ordered food in.

I was looking over T's shoulder as he began mixing the ingredients using a hand-mixer.

"Okay, now remember, do it slow-"

T turned the thing on at it's highest level and flour poofed up into the air.

"Do it slowly, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry!"

He could hardly hold the mixer as it was moving at trailblazing speed.

I grabbed his hand with my right and the bowl with my other and turned down the speed.