The Polaroid Girls

Chapter 8

A/N: Hullo and happy Tuesday! You made it through Monday, that deserves a great big huzzah! But really, you rock, you earned this, you deserve this. So here it is, chapter 8. Here for your reading pleasure and enjoyment. c: (Forewarning: this chapter contains food and even while writing it, it made me desperate for cheesy rice--I warned you)

Question of the week: What is your favorite book/book series of all time? Is it an impossible question? I think so. But if I had to choose, I'd say it's either the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas because *swoon,* or The Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children series by Ransom Riggs because it's so weird and spectacular and I love his writing style and all the characters in it soo--*fangirls a bit.*

So, highly recommend those series! They are 110,000% worth it, I promise. Now, let's hear from you guys, what are your favorites? I'm always down for recommendations.

And from here, I bid you ado. Happy reading. Thanks for reading, always!  And don't forget to vote, comment, send me messages if you're feeling chatty c:, and follow if you're interested. Thanks for your continued support and I hope you love this week's chapter! ^_^

Laina pulled the casserole out of the oven and set it on the stove top before sliding off her oven mitts.

"I'm still not understanding--why, are you bringing Royce a casserole?" Ethan peered at her from his seat at the dining table just outside the kitchen.

Laina sighed and unzipped the insulated bag she had pulled out to carry the casserole over.

"Because when he came into the cafe the other day he looked exhausted and his cheeks looked all sunken, and he just seemed like he could use some rest and good food."

"Okay, so why do you have to make food for him? He's an adult, Laina, he can cook for himself."

She set the dish into the bag and zipped it shut. She stared at him from her spot behind the kitchen island and propped a hand on her hip.

"Because he's our neighbor and friend. Why do I need a reason to cook for someone who seems like they might need the help? What does it matter?"

Ethan ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. Why was he so worked up about this? She was doing something nice for her friend, what other explanation did he want from her?

"Look, I'm not opposed to you helping out a friend or cooking for them I just..." he rubbed a hand over his furrowed brow, "am not totally comfortable with you making food for him."

She raised a brow at him and dropped her hands on the countertop, making a harsh slapping sound.

"What's wrong with him?" She mimicked his dipping tone.

He fell quiet then, and stared at her with piercing gray eyes. He usually appeared friendly and open with her, always. But his eyes were intense and unmoving and his face sour. She had gathered the night of the bonfire that Ethan was being weird and cold with Royce. He had been during the entire trip and into the night, especially once Royce had wrapped her foot and helped her down the mountain. But he was just being a good friend, no, a good person! So why did Ethan act so cold to him afterward? What was his problem with Royce?

She waited one minute, then two, then three, Ethan's firm, cold stare unwavering. She sighed and threw up her hands.

"I don't get it, Ethan. Please, enlighten me."

Ethan leaned back in his chair and tilted his chin up at her as he crossed his arms.

"Always so ignorant," he huffed out a humorless chuckle and tapped his fingertips on the wooden table top, one, two, three, four..."you won't always be able to fall back on that excuse, Laina. You may be clueless sometimes, but you're not dumb."