Cootie Brownies
“Alec, I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”
I frown down at the pale lumpy gloop in the bowl and the sight makes me gag. I guess this is karma for making brownies freestyle, without using a recipe. I’m pretty sure that chocolate brownies are supposed to be made with cocoa powder, and they’re not supposed to have clumps of butter swimming around in them. We didn’t have any cocoa powder, so Alec improvised by using Horlicks – a bizarre powdered drink that tastes kind of like a hundred-year-old diluted chocolate bar. The result doesn’t look good.
“Me neither.” He frowns. “But I’m sure it will taste good. Should we add more sugar just in case?”
“Alec. You added enough sugar to make all your teeth fall out with one bite,” I deadpan, coughing a little bit at the end of the sentence. In reaction, Alec swiftly takes the bowl from me, frowning and covering the mixture to protect it. He and I are currently attempting to make brownies to feed Millie and Jack, who we are supposed to be babysitting. Even though I suggested good old sandwiches, Alec wanted to “live a little on the edge” and make brownies. If the brownies do come out as bricks, the fault is entirely his.
“Don’t cough near the brownie mix, Riley!” he whines in a playful voice, shielding the bowl from me as though it’s a baby or something. “No one likes cootie brownies.”
“Cootie brownies?” I cough out a laugh. “I apologise if I’m allergic to your bullshit. Let’s stick the mix in the oven and maybe it will turn out better than it looks now.” I wrinkle my nose dubiously at the mixture as he pours it into the tin. I don’t think Alec believes me. Heck, I don’t even believe me. That mixture looks like something a very old cat would puke up.
Ew, I don’t want to think about that right now.
It’s been a couple of weeks since the confrontation with Tiana and things are almost back to normal. Almost. I’m sitting with my friends again in school, and I can’t explain how much of a relief that is. I feel a lot happier now, happier probably than I’ve ever been thanks to my mind feeling looser, less constrained. I even messaged Tiana to tell her if she ever wanted to talk about stuff that I’d be there for her. She didn’t reply of course, but the offer is there. Nobody should feel completely alone, no matter what terrible things they’ve done.
I would be lying if I said that it’s like nothing has changed. Something has formed between Alec and I, a kind of awkwardness. Now all the obstacles have disappeared, it’s like we don’t know what to do with ourselves. I’ll catch him looking at me, but the minute I do he’ll look away.
I’ve been trying to keep the conversation light and nothing too heavy, but it’s beginning to worry me. Did he ever really like me in the first place, or were we just friends after all? If he did, does he still like me now?
“Done.” Alec slams the oven shut with a flourish. “Fifteen minutes should do, right? I guess we should probably start cleaning up.”
I turn to survey the kitchen. It’s not that bad. There’s a little bit of flour on the floor, and Alec accidentally dropped an egg, but apart from that the damage is fairly minimal. I glance over at the open bag of flour, suddenly having an idea. Yeah, it’s pretty obvious what I’m planning to do.
“Sure,” I murmur, leaning over to grab a handful of flour behind my back. Alec bends down to put the baking powder back (that we used five teaspoons of – I hope that’s enough), and as he straightens up again I catapult the handful of white powder straight into his face. It’s only as I throw the flour at him that I realise I have done so with too much enthusiasm . . .
“What the actual –” Alec yells. “Why did you punch me?” He inhales sharply at the pain, breathing in the flour that I’ve thrown all over his mouth before he dissolves into an insane coughing fit, clouds of white billowing everywhere. I watch the situation, my jaw comfortably resting on the floor. Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. You’ve done it now, Riley.
I take a risky step back. Alec’s gaze snaps up to mine as he coughs away the last puff of flour, and his eyes narrow dangerously. I just punched him in the nose and almost suffocated him. If looks could kill, I would be six feet under right now. On the bright side, he looks like a snowman. You’d have thought it would be hard to take him seriously at this point, but the look Alec is giving me is deadly.
I am so screwed, I’m practically a screwdriver.
“Oh, that’s it.” Alec’s voice is hard as stone now, his eyes never leaving mine. I watch in horror as he plucks an egg from the carton. We all know what’s coming next. My head is screaming at me to run but my feet don’t obey, and in less than a second Alec’s hand comes down on top of my head with a loud splat. The egg gunk runs down my face and I close my eyes in disgust as I feel it dripping through my hair, cold and slimy. Alec begins to laugh.
“Ew,” I squeal. “Grasshole.”
“Well at least I didn’t punch you when I did it.” He smirks, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “Come on, we better get this cleaned up before my mom gets back.” He releases me to grab the remaining utensils that are strewn across the counter, giving me a horribly clichéd pang of sadness at the loss of contact. Ah, I’m so cringey. I take the mop from him, following as he lugs the bucket over to the sink to fill it. Water runs from the faucet and splashes angrily into the bucket, filling with bubbles when the washing-up liquid is added.
“I’m gonna need to go home and shower again,” I complain, running my fingers through the goo and shell in my hair. “I already showered this morning.”
In response, Alec scoops up some of the bubbles from the bucket and sloshes them against my cheek. “No need.”
I’m about to scoop up my own revenge and splash his face with it when we’re interrupted by the sudden ring of his mobile. It’s easy to recognise his ringtone – it’s My Chemical Romance.
Alec frowns, fumbling in his pocket and pulling out a sleek expensive model. He presses the button and checks the caller ID, face puckered with confusion. However, as he registers the words on the screen, he instantly presses the “end call” button and puts his phone on the counter. His eyes won’t meet mine as he takes the mop from me again, and his skin has paled. What is wrong with him?
“Who was that?”
“My dad,” Alec mutters after a few seconds.
“Your dad?”
My voice is masked with surprise. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never delved properly into that topic with Alec. I know the basics – his dad left them when he found out Marie was bisexual – but I never realised he kept in contact. It makes me feel incredibly self-absorbed for dumping all my problems on Alec when I hardly know a thing about his issues. I watch him as he concentrates remarkably hard on cleaning one particular tile.
“Alec, are you okay?” I ask, not really knowing what to say to him.
“Mhmm,” he replies curtly.
An awkward silence falls. If he doesn’t want to tell me, he doesn’t have to, I remind myself. Still, I can’t help but compare it to everything that I’ve told him, and I feel my insides shrink a little in disappointment. Evidently, I’ve not quite broken Alec’s walls down yet.
“Riley,” he sighs.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, I just . . . I find this difficult, okay?”
I turn to look at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Alec. I know what it’s like to want to protect your vulnerability. It’s okay.”
“My dad is a dick,” Alec states plainly. “There is nothing else to it. Yes, he tries to keep in contact with me. Emails, phone calls. Yes, he pays child support . . . but he completely ignores my mom. He hasn’t spoken to her since the day he left. He doesn’t want anything to do with her, and as a result, I don’t want anything to do with him.” He sighs again, realising that he’s splashed water all over the floor in the midst of his rant.
“I don’t blame you,” I finally say. I know that he doesn’t want to talk much more about it. It must be so difficult for him, to be so detached from his father. I know what it’s like to feel a little disconnected, but at least I’m still on relatively good terms with my dad. I can’t help but wonder if my mom was right – that maybe Alec’s trouble with his dad has made him insecure, has made him less able to trust.
I take the mop from Alec and begin to clean the water he’s spilled. We’re almost finished now, and then we’ve just got the counters to clean before we can change clothes and make ourselves presentable again. The egg trail left on my neck is drying by the second – cracking and crumbling every time I move. Bubbles pop on my cheek.
A comfortable silence rests on us. I glance over to Alec and he appears deep in thought, so I just hum his ringtone under my breath and continue to scrub the tiles. All I can smell is egg from my clothes and hair, and it’s hard to keep a straight face when Alec’s eyebrows are flecked with flour. How does he manage to look good even when he’s covered in flour? I’m sure I look a total mess.
“Riley,” Alec says after a minute, very quietly. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” I look up, surprised to see that he’s watching me. “Mop the floor?”
“No.” His eyes burn into mine – deeper than an ocean, and frankly much prettier as well. His voice is serious and awed, unlike my teasing tones. “You just . . . you know exactly what to say to me. How to manage me. I tell you about my dad and how I don’t want to speak to him, and you just . . . you just understand. You don’t push me to try to get a better relationship with him, you don’t pry or ask too many questions. You listen, and you know what I need in the moment. How?”
He leans towards me.
My throat tightens. “I don’t know.” I shrug awkwardly. “I just know where to draw the line I guess. Sometimes you have to know when a person needs you to comfort them or just to shut up.”
His hands slowly pull away my mop, and he drops it to the floor.
“Do you think,” he breathes, putting his hands behind my waist and pulling me to him. “Do you think it would be okay if we shut up now?” His lips are just inches from mine, and I revel in the feeling. The electricity of the air, the burning in my chest.
I nod slightly, and Alec doesn’t hesitate a second. His lips press onto mine again, and the delicious warm feeling spreads through my veins once more. I’ve missed it. Kissing him, it’s amazing. My arms loop up round his neck, and his hands pull my waist to press tightly against him. The sun feels like it’s beaming from inside my chest, and I wonder if every kiss with Alec will feel like this, if this amazing feeling ever really goes away.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I glance at the stove in surprise. Looks like our brownies are ready.
Reluctantly, I pull away from Alec to turn the timer off, my hands shaking. I release a breath, grabbing a towel and pulling a tray of very strange, pale brownies from the stove. I place them onto the cooling rack. I don’t care about the brownies right now, or anything for that matter. Alec kissed me again. My skin feels hotter than the inside of the oven, my pulse racing. Even though I can’t bring myself to focus on anything but the boy behind me, no part of me can bring myself to turn round and face him either.
Why hasn’t he said anything?
I stand there dumbly, staring at nothing.
Finally, I feel a hand wrap round my arm and tug me round. Fingers lift my chin up and I find myself staring into a pair of deep cobalt eyes.
Alec releases a short breath, and his scent fans over my face. Slowly, after evaluating my reaction, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead on mine. “Is this real?” he croaks.
I let out a short breathy laugh. “Apparently.”
It’s so hard to concentrate when a drool-worthy boy has his forehead pressed to yours and is looking into your eyes, let me tell you. Already I’m starting to overthink. What are we going to do now? What if he’s not ready to commit? His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow. What about –
“I like you,” he says, and his eyes open.
My heart hits the floor, and I have to fight to remain calm.
“I really, really like you in fact, and I’m a jerk for not admitting this until now, I know . . . but I can’t say that I love you yet, because the truth is that I’m as inexperienced as they come in that area. I have no idea what love is, how to show it . . . and one of the reasons I’ve left it so long to tell you this is the fact that I know you can do better – you can find someone who’ll love you back the right way. But at the end of the day, I’m crazy about you. And if there’s a chance that you feel anywhere near as strongly as I feel, then I honestly think this could work. I want to make this work.”
His eyes are earnest and my heart is exploding.
Somehow I manage to find words.
“I want this. I want you.”
As he registers what I’ve said, his expression morphs into the most stunning smile I think I’ve ever seen a human wear, and it’s too much. Way too much for my feeble heart to cope with. His arms wrap round my back, and he pulls me towards him like a magnet. All space between us is gone in a second, and I bring my lips to his to reignite the flame. It’s stronger this time – maybe because I know for certain that this is it now, we’re a thing. Maybe because I’m above cloud nine. Maybe because this is the first time I’ve initiated a kiss with him, and the ecstasy that overwhelms me when he returns it just as eagerly is the best feeling in the world. I smile against his lips, and his hands shoot up to cup my face and everything is perfect. So sweetly, deliciously perfect.
“How many times did you practise that speech?” I smile. My pulse is throbbing at the strain my heart is under. Honestly, if I ever do date Alec Wilde for real, then I may suffer from some kind of heart disease – they’ll have to keep me in hospital day and night, I swear.
“Just a couple of hundred.”
“Favourite movie?” I ask Alec, rolling the green Skittle around on my tongue as I wait for his reply. I’m lying sprawled across his chest in my rainbow leggings and my favourite big blue sweater. My heart is still fluttering at the fact that this beautiful, sweet and irritatingly cocky boy is holding me, and I can’t quite help but marvel at my luck. Today has been the epitome of perfection. Alec’s arms tighten round my waist.
“Probably something like The Fast and the Furious or The Dark Knight,” he admits, grabbing a Skittle from the bag nestled in my lap. Words can’t describe how cosy I feel right now – I’m in my softest clothes, with my crush’s arms round me and a bag of Skittles in my lap.
“What’s yours?” Alec asks me.
“The Dark Knight or Gone in 60 Seconds.” I grin contentedly. “Favourite food?”
“Steak,” Alec replies. His fingers unconsciously trace the skin of my arms, causing me to shiver. “What’s your favourite song?”
“ ‘Misfit’ by High Dive Heart,” I decide after a hesitation. To be honest, my favourite song changes every day – but so far, that has been my all-time favourite. “Favourite colour?”
“Probably navy. Will you be my girlfriend?”
I freeze. “What?”
I turn round in his arms to look at him, but his eyes show no sight of deceit or teasing. He’s offering me a small smile, and his eyes are glinting darkly in the dim lighting. The freckles on his cheeks, which I once didn’t realise were there, are now a prominent feature on his chiselled, gorgeous face.
“Really? You want me to be your girlfriend?” My eyebrows fly skyward, and excitement bubbles in my stomach as his smile enlarges.
“Yep. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not at all,” I reply innocently. “But aren’t you going to win me over with a line first? C’mon, Alec – you have to bring out the big guns here.”
Alec pouts. “You want me to think of a line?”
I grin cheekily. “Of course.”
He sighs exasperatedly, but I can tell he’s only teasing. He knows as well as I do that I’ll say yes no matter what line he pulls on me, but sue me – I’m curious as to which one is his best line. Alec turns me round in his lap so that I’m facing him, and I eye his excited face curiously.
“Honey, you’re so sweet that you’ll put Hershey’s out of business,” Alec drawls. “And speaking of Hershey’s – how about a kiss?”
“That was your best one? Seriously?” I can’t help it – I’m not impressed. After all the other hilarious lines he’s given me in the past, this can’t be his best.
“No,” Alec snorts. “But I already know you want to be my girlfrien.”
“You mean girlfriend,” I correct him.
“What?”
“You didn’t pronounce the ‘D’. . .”
“Oh.” Alec smirks. “Don’t you worry about that. You’ll get the D later.”
Oh my God. I fell straight into that one. I curse and smack his chest, watching as Alec bursts into deep peals of laughter. That was bad, and I can’t believe I fell for it.
“You’re a jerk,” I tell him. I bite my lip and look away, giggling.
Alec feigns surprise. “The ice queen fell for my little pickup line? Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that.” Alec clicks his tongue daringly. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? If yes, then breathe. If no, then lick your elbow.” He pulls me closer, a defiant smirk on his lips. Instantly I take a deep breath and he grins.
“Now that’s settled, I should probably get going.” He climbs up off my bed and over to my window, and I watch him go with an air of nostalgia around me. A few months ago, he did exactly that with my bra in his hand. Reluctantly, I peel myself off the bed and follow him over to my window to say goodbye. After pressing a light and sweet kiss to my lips, he jumps over to his own windowsill with his reflexes as catlike as ever. When he reaches his room, I smile shyly and go to press the window down.
“Oh wait!” Alec cries out as he remembers something, and I spin back around to see him fumbling just below the windowsill. He grins when he finally grabs whatever object it is, and then looks up at me as he chucks it carefully onto my windowsill. “Here, have this back.”
I step closer to examine the object which is now hanging from my window.
Holy macaroni cheese.
On toast.
With extra ketchup.
It’s my Mickey Mouse bra.
I stare in pure shock at the bra I haven’t seen in four months.
“Where did I hide it? If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He grins as I stare at him, speechless. This annoying, cocky, infuriating bra thief is now my boyfriend. I think people should pray for me – I might not survive otherwise.
Or at least, my underwear won’t.