50• Shut Up And Stop Being A Smart-Alex

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50• Shut Up And Stop Being A Smart-Alex

50• Shut Up And Stop Being A Smart-Alex

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I'd never been a very imaginative daydreamer. But for some reason, I could not stop daydreaming about Jesse Campbell's mac and cheese. We'd been with each other less than 24 hours ago, but somehow, this lovely Saturday evening, I couldn't stop thinking of mac and cheese. God. That man could cook.

My front door swung open, hitting the wall as it did, and Celeste walked in with a backpack on and a basket full of random shit and snacks.

"Sorry about the door, Mrs. H!" Celeste yelled as she walked in, then kicking the door shut with her foot.

"Not a problem, it's just a door!" My mom called from the kitchen. She was right in the middle of baking muffins for Ethan's bake sale tonight at the school. It was actually "around the world" night, which meant that every kid was assigned a group and a different country. My brother ended up getting Iceland, to which my mom said, "They probably eat muffins in Iceland," and shrugged.

My mom is a lovely woman. But no one ever said she was going to spend hours baking some random Icelandic dessert. It didn't really matter, anyway. She made a damn good muffin.

"Hey, Mrs. H. I brought you some wine," Celeste said, pulling out a bottle of red wine and setting it on the counter. "And, for the man of the house, we have some scotch." She then pulled out a bottle of scotch and set it next to the wine.

I laughed silently, shaking my head as I finished up a problem from my algebra homework. "Did you finally get your fake ID?" My mom asked.

"Ha! I wish!" Celeste said, jumping up on the counter and watching my mom lightly frost the lemon poppyseed muffins. "So my parents decided, 'hey, let's raid the liquor store', and they came back with about a thousand different types of alcohol. They said it would be nice to bring some over since I'm constantly invading your home."

"You're always welcome," my dad said, entering the kitchen, then focusing on my mom. "Ethan is ready to go. Are you sure we can't just eat all of these muffins ourselves?"

"That's not very nutritious of you," I commented, not looking up from my homework.

"Just because I work in the field doesn't mean I follow it like a bible, daughter!" My dad exclaimed. "This man likes his muffins."

"And this man," Ethan said, walking into the kitchen, "likes to be on time for school-sanctioned bake sales!"

"You heard the man," my dad said, helping my mom package up the last of the muffins into a large Tupperware container.

My mom grabbed her purse and keys, then the Tupperware container, handing it to Ethan. She came over and kissed my cheek, then took the pencil out of my hand and threw it across the kitchen.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

"Stop doing boring shit and have fun with your friends. Don't be crazy. Don't ruin the house or burn it down. Don't sneak over your boyfriend unless you promise to keep the door open and no hanky-panky. And don't let your brother run off with his... well, don't let him run off with Alexander to his room," my mom went on.

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