That Geek Is A Trouble

Chapter 17

And now the times are changin'

Look at everything that's come and gone

Sometimes when I play that old six-string

I think about you, wonder what went wrong

- Summer of '69  

*(I love this song. Are you fan of it and still belt it out every now and then?)*

******

After a good shower, I finally felt like myself. No more stink of vomit and sweat. Yeah, I was a real charmer when I woke up. Getting into new fresh clothes which were way too big for my size I padded across the hallway into the kitchen. It was an automated maneuver actually. You see, as soon as I got out of the steamy bathroom my nose twitched as the delicious smell of pan-fried chicken wafted in through the bedroom's door. There was only so much my stomach could take.

So pulling onto clothes haphazardly which I found spread on the bed, obviously by Ian, I almost glided into the kitchen with my nose picking at the mouth-watering smell as bread crumbs.

There he was with his back turned towards the door. Humming summer of '69 softly while chopping tomatoes on a cutting board and simultaneously stirring something in a pot. He was wearing khaki shorts and a button down shirt which I've never seen him wear before. There was a rag cloth hanging by his shoulder. Although I couldn't see his face but his back looked...good. Long legs which were never so exposed before. Broad shoulder. And tousled brown hair which looked like the wind itself has styled them in a new fashion. It's like I saw him for the first time. At least in a new way. A foreign kind of feeling started bubbling deep inside my stomach. And it had nothing to do with the hunger riot in there. For a moment there I almost forgot how hungry I was.

Captured in the moment I didn't notice when Ian had turned around and was staring at me. "You okay there, Chasity?" I snapped back to focus.

"Yeah." My voice came out a little pitchy. Clearing my throat, I said, "I'm good. What are you doing here?"

"Well, um. I told you that I'll cook something while you get cleaned up. Didn't I?"

"Did you? Ah! Right you told so." I rubbed my neck sheepishly.

Ian eyed me with concern. "Chasity. Are you really okay?" What should I answer him? That while he was busy cooking I was checking him out? That I was finally acknowledging how good his back looked? Nah. Definitely Not!

"Do you feel any pain or discomfort? Because of the concussion? You can tell me. You know."

"Yes! Right!" I exclaimed feeling relieved to have an excuse. "The concussion. Yeah. The concussion. I do feel a little hazy." And there was again that guilt in his eyes which made me want to slap myself for saying it.

"But I'm okay, though. I'm sure with a little more rest I'll be perfectly good." He still had that look disregard of my assurance.

"I hope so. Why don't you take a seat? I'll serve the food in five minutes."

Walking up to the counters stationed in the mid of the kitchen I sat on a stool with my elbows resting on the slap. "Need any help with cooking?"

"Nah! It's almost done."

"What did you make?"

Ian faced towards the cooking area again. "Um. Let's see. Pan fried chicken is already." See my nose can never be wrong. "Spaghetti is boiled. Just have to toss it with the salsa sauce. Tomato and cucumber are cut. Ready to make the salad. I didn't get feta cheese so we have to manage with goat cheese. And then there's an apple pie which is..."