Chris Exists

Part 8

Welcome to part eight! I'm working on trying to upload quicker, but am not sure if it will... *ahem* ya know. ANYWAY. This is happening. 

Just another quick note, all of my characters are based loosely of the people I know. So, many thanks to my big cousin, my friends, Mom, and the new guy in my class for existing. Y'all are awesome. :)

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-Chris's POV-

We had just arrived home from Wolf Creek, and Bruno seemed on edge. Apparently,  when he was nervous, he baked. So far he had made two batches of biscuits (because apparently the first batch  hadn't been golden enough),  a dozen lemon bars, something called Börek that I had never heard of before, but was delicious, and a ton of blackberry jam which he used as filling for several batches of strudels. 

"So..." I began though a mouth full of Börek, "what's up?"

"What's up?" Bruno said, pacing around the kitchen with a tray or strudels. "That bird thing said it wasn't safe! Who knows what could happen."

"Bruno," I said, trying to sound comforting, "it's a demon kiwi bird. I doubt we can trust anything it says."

"I guess..." Bruno said, seeming to calm a bit.

I let out a small sigh. Maybe he would sit down now.

Bruno let out a sharp curse, spinning on the heel of his trainer. "There's no space to plate the strudels! All the counter space is full of all the other  food I made."

He was right. There hadn't been the most space to begin with in the little kitchen, and now every countertop was piled high with baked goods.

"Speaking of the food you made," I said, "this stuff is awesome! You're really good in the kitchen. Best I can do is instant ramen."

Bruno huffed a thank you as he balanced the tray on top of the microwave. 

"Maybe we should sit down?" I suggested.

"No," Bruno said, "it's not okay." He cursed again. "I shouldn't even be baking right now. I should be utilizing this time to fortify the house.... ARRGH I'm an idiot."

"No you're not!" I argued. "It's fine. Plus, you're mom needs to be able to get into the house, right? If we fortified it, she'd be stuck outside."

"OH NO I FORGOT ABOUT MOM!"

Uh oh.

"How are we going to explain all this to her? What if she won't let you stay? What if she won't eat any of the food I made and we have to carb load and end up dying?"

"Bruno..."

"What are we going to do? How will we explain this? What if she doesn't believe us?"

"Bruno."

"What if she thinks I'm crazy makes me go to a hospital? Who'll watch you if that happens? What if she thinks she's crazy when she sees you? Or goes crazy when she sees you?"

"BRUNO" I barked. He stopped ranting. "Calm. Down. Deep breath. This is going to be fine."

"No it's not."

"We don't know that," I said, "I think we should just explain as best as we can, and if she doesn't believe us, we can... we can..."

A key turned in the lock of the back door (which was attached to the kitchen area).

I jolted, falling off the counter I was perched atop. Bruno rushed to the door.

His mom walked in. "Woah," she exclaimed, "you're baking. What happened? Who's that? ...why does he have goat ears?"