Christmas was quick to come; the days began to get shorter, snow was falling each and every day. They put up the large christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. I hadn't been in touch with Lucas, but he kept calling and calling. I was wondering how long it would be before he would take the hint?
Every Christmas, my mom and I had a tradition. She was the decorator, I was the baker. Well...I attempted to be the baker. Cooking is not my strong suit; sometimes we have to go to the store and buy Pillsbury desserts. Turns out Howard was a huge kid when it came to Christmas; he loved the lights and the decorations and the phenomenon. Zac told me stories about when he was younger, and his mom would take him to FAO Schwartz early in the year, and then he'd pick a toy he really wanted. And then at Christmas, he would open a present and find that toy there, waiting for him to play with it. Mrs. Trenway was a huge believer in Christmas, and Howard and Zac honoured her by continuing the tradition. I found it...beautiful.
It was around seven at night, and I was left alone again...with Zac; as our parents went out to buy a new Christmas tree. I was in the kitchen, trying to make an apple pie. Not only that, but I was also trying to make dough stars for the top crust. Let's just say, easier said than done. I had a Martha Stewart cook book propped up against a titanium bowl with eggs and flour sitting in it...or was it eggs and baking soda? Oh my god, this is why I don't bake! But Martha Stewart doesn't make it easy, she doesn't give certain details for people who need details...like myself.
"...put two A-cups of maple sugar into minced apples and...wait...the instructions said sliced apples but put the sugar into minced apples? I don't think you put minced apples in a pie. You can put minced apples in a salad, I've never heard of minced apples in pie. You'd probably have to cut up over ten apples to fit a pie pan...wow, I sound like a crazy person." to top it all off, I was talking to myself. If someone heard me, they'd think I was nuts.
"You trying to get the instructions to talk back to you?" makes sense that Zac heard me. "What's all this?" he asked. Was he blind? It was obvious what was going on here.
"Ingredients for pie." I replied. "I'm trying to actually bake." Zac reached into his pocket, then took my hand and place something into it. I oepned my hand and found an angel pendant, attached to a chain.
"What's this?" I asked him.
"Early Christmas present. Merry Christmas." he replied. I sighed and gave him back the necklace.
"Just stop." I told him.
"Stop what?" he asked.
"This! You being nice like this, it's really...weird. You don't have to be compassionate for me anymore, I'm fine." I replied.
"So you'd rather I didn't beat up Lucas last month for you and come home like everything was okay, right?" he asked.
"You wouldn't have a large scab on your forehead if you did." I replied, turning back to my baking.
"Makes me look pretty dangerous though, doesn't it? Like Dwayne Johnson." he asked. I get what he was trying to do, he was trying to make me smile. And damn him, it was working.
"You are such an egghead." I told him. He looked at me, with his winning smile gleaming.
"I'm not." he replied. It was then I realised how close in proximity we were, any closer he may as well have kissed me. I felt like he wanted to, but I had something different in mind. I grabbed an egg off the counter, and I smashed it into his hair. Zac squeezed his eyes shut, while the egg goop dripped down the sides of his face, flecks of shell were sticking out of his hair, and the egg yolk had splattered onto his shirt.
"Now you're an egghead." I said. He sighed, then reached into the flour bag and threw it at me. I had flour on the side of my hair and spots on my shirt. But it was funny, we were laughing. My hand reached into the cinnamon bag and I threw it at his black shirt, then he reached into the dough mix and threw it back at me. "Ah! That was perfectly measured!"
That was when a full scale food fight let loose, we were flinging powders at each other, sugar, eggs. Batter and other ingredients splattered onto the floor, no doubt our clothes were a complete disaster. Who cares though? We were having fun! We were seventeen years old, and acting like complete kids! Zac wasn't done yet. He grabbed me and started spinning me around the kitchen. My giggles and yelps could probably be heard throughout the entire thirty fifth floor!
When he stopped, he was still holding me close, maybe two or three inches away from each other. I was still smiling like an idiot, but inside, I was hoping for something very different to happen.
I wanted him to kiss me.
It was a strange feeling, and for a moment I thought I was dreaming again...but I wasn't. This was real, this was happening. My stomach was beginning to turn over, doing backflips and saumersalts. This was what it meant to feel something...a spark. But sometimes, they may not get a happy ending.
"What the hell?"
"Oh my God!" our parents had returned.
"What is going on in here?" Howard asked us. By now, Zac had let me go so we could face the rath we were soon going to receive.
"We're um...we're baking." I replied.
"I've had a few baking mishaps in my day, but it's never looked anything like this." mom said, her eyes were scrolling over every little mess we'd made. I was so dead.
"We're sorry, we really are. I-I take full responsibility for this." Zac said.
"No, no it's my fault. I smashed the first egg into his hair." I cut in.
"I don't care who's fault it is! The both of you, just clean this mess up!" Howard snapped. Zac and I looked at each other and nodded.
YOU ARE READING
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