Friendly Dating 2 - Ethan

Chapter 36 - Let's Fudge it Up!

"The sugar is dissolved; what is the next step?" I ask after expertly stirring it for three million years until there's a thin, hot, granule-free liquid in the pot.

"Now I turn up the heat," she says, fidgeting with the nob on the stove. I do not like those words! "And boil it for 10 minutes, giving it a good stir every couple of minutes."

"Okay." Honestly, I'm already a bit fed up with this stirring game. It's making me sleepy. Round and round in figure eight, over and over and over again. So boring and so friggin' hot!

"You should really preserve your stirring energy, Ethy," Kira destroys the last of the delusions of romantic fudge making I had when I decided to help her. "Because when I add the condensed milk, it has to be stirred non-stop, constantly scraping the bottom for about 15 minutes."

"Seriously, Kicks, the fun factor is going down by the minute. I'm already sweating here," I grumble, and I'm not exaggerating; standing here in the steam from the pot is sheer hell. I'm already boiling.

"It's okay, Ethy, I can do this. Why don't you go take a shower?" she offers, trying to take the spoon, and I can see that she's doing it because she knows how easily I overheat, and she's trying to be kind, but I'm not going to put her in this hell. I do what I always do when she tries to take her sweets, the TV remote, the gaming remote, the thing I'm torturing her with or anything else away from me that I don't want to give her. I stick out one arm and hold her off so she cannot reach me.

So mean. Hehe!

As usual, it doesn't take long for her to start growling at me, but this time, I'm not going to laugh and give her what she's after, and I guess she realises that because she gives up and cranks up the air conditioner instead, directing the airflow towards me.

"Thanks," I grin, and shrugging, she opens the cans of condensed milk. I stir and stir and after every few figure eights, I step away from the stove and spread my arms and legs to capture some of the sweet cold air blasting from the air-con. I'm not ecstatic when the timer goes off, and Kira adds the two 397g cans of condensed milk to the pot, and the serious stirring begins.

"We can take turns," she smiles, watching me slowly stirring the mixture in overlapping figure eights, scraping the bottom and sides all the time, making sure that nothing stays on the pot's surface long enough to burn.

"I'm not letting this shit burn you," I tell her, putting myself between her and the pot, hoping there won't be a tussle because one or both of us might end up burned this time. "What happens after 15 minutes in hell?"

"Actually, it could be more than 15 minutes," she informs me with a grimace. "It could be less too," she adds because she probably saw the pain on my face. "I keep on checking the consistency when the texture starts to change. As soon as the bits I drip out cool to become more or less what I want it to become, you know, very slightly brittle, we take the pot off the stove, add a teaspoon vanilla essence - well, two, since I'm doing everything double - and stir it really quickly and pour it into the greased pans. We have to be really fast, or it will set in the pot, and then we'll have a mess."

While Kicks rubs some margarine in the two large baking trays waiting on the counter, I stir and stir and sweat and stir. I'm too scared to take short cooling breaks; I don't want to fudge this up! Pun totally intended... if it is one...

I'm pleasantly surprised when Kira suddenly pushes a chair next to the stove, stands on it and drapes a wet towel over my head and shoulders where the aircon can blow on it to cool me down even more.

Awesome! I have the best girlfriend ever!

"I made you a head-con," she says, and I glance at her with a grin. "A head aircon," she giggles, the sound like fresh rain all around me.