Chapter 17
The next morning I’m woken up by a knock on my door. Before I say anything, Ashley barges in. She’s wearing leggings and a zip-up jacket.
“Do you know where my running gloves are?” she asks.
“No. Why would I?”
She shrugs. “Maybe because I found my jacket in your room yesterday.”
Whoops. Busted.
“Well, if I find my gloves, do you want to come with me?” she asks.
“For a run?”
“No, to prom.” She smiles sarcastically.
“Sure,” I say, surprised she wants to run with me. I haven’t gone on a run with her since before my accident, and I know I’m not exactly in shape from the hike at Breakneck.
“I might slow you dow—” I start.
“Be ready in five minutes,” she says before leaving me lying in my bed. Eventually, I roll out from under my covers to investigate my closet. My running clothes are way in the back, because they haven’t been used since last year.
Some people don’t like running in the cold, but I’d much rather bundle up and run outside in the winter than sweat a gallon in the heat of summer. I find warm running tights and a fleece jacket.
My run with Ashley isn’t the longest one I’ve ever been on, but it’s nice to clear my head.
“What’re you up to today?” Ashley asks once we’re back in the driveway. I’m gasping for air, my hands on my hips as we slow to a stop.
Between deep breaths, I realize I haven’t filled her in about anything with Andy. It’s probably for the best. If I told her I was hanging out with him yesterday, she’d have a million questions about him. Now I can just tell her about Pete.
“I’m going to the Culinary today for a chocolate-making class,” I say. “With Pete.”
“Oh,” Ashley said softly, as if she’s bummed. Did she think we were going to keep hanging out?
“Sorry,” I say right away. “Where’s Steve? Don’t you normally hang out with him on weekends?”
“Why do you always bring Steve into everything?”
I gawk. “I guess that’s a no….” I think back to when I mentioned him earlier. She brushed it off then too. “Did something happen?” I ask.
“No, nothing happened. Is it that unbelievable that I’d want to hang out with my sister?”
I look at her in amazement. The truth is yes, it is unbelievable. Maybe last year I would’ve thought otherwise, but I can’t think of a single time recently that she chose me over Steve.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Ashley demands.
“I’m thinking about how to respond without being mean,” I admit.
Her head whips back like I said something horrible.
“You’re one to talk, Ella. You’re going to a chocolate-making class with an ex-boyfriend over me.”
“That’s not fair. He’s not just my ex-boyfriend,” I argue, before I realize that wasn’t the point. “I would’ve invited you if I knew you wanted to come.”
“Yeah, right” is all she says, and she storms away toward the stairs.
“How are you mad at me?” I call out. “You always do stuff with Steve over me!”
It was about time I told her the truth, but I never thought it would be in a fight like this. She doesn’t even turn around to talk about it. She continues storming toward the steps, even past our dad as he walks out of the office without a word.
“What’s her deal?” I ask Dad as we listen to her feet go up the stairs. There must be something going on with Steve that she’s not telling me.
My dad shrugs. “I was hoping you could fill me in.”
I sigh. Somehow, I’m still messing everything up.
When I open the door, I notice Pete’s haircut immediately. His sandy brown hair is short. I always liked the flow to his long locks, but there’s something about this that works for him. He’s clean-cut.
Pete strokes the top of his head as he catches me staring. “The barber went a little overboard….”
“No, I love it,” I respond.
“You do?” he asks. It isn’t the question that bothers me, it’s how he says it. Like it’s hard to believe I wouldn’t like something about him, even if it’s just a simple haircut. If Pete is my admirer, the least I could do is show some appreciation. Even if he isn’t, this great guy is clearly into me. Friday night, he joined me for a cheesy date that a lot of guys would probably laugh at. He could’ve come up with a million and one excuses for why we couldn’t do it, or offered to hang out later, but he didn’t. It could be because the chocolate date was his idea to begin with, or because he just wants to hang out with me. Either way, it makes him a great guy. He’s at my doorstep looking down at me, surprised that I’m complimenting him.
“Really,” I say. “You look great. And thanks so much for coming with me today. It means a lot.”
“Of course,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m happy you asked me.”
“Still sweet of you to join me,” I say, starting to walk toward his car.
He nods, missing my pun entirely, but I won’t let that bother me today.
Walking into the Culinary Institute of America is a little like walking into your favorite reality cooking show. You can smell the classrooms before you even enter the building, since half of them are actually test kitchens. We’ll be meeting in one of them, and as I make my way toward it with Pete, I get a delicious whiff of something cinnamon. My brain tries to guess what it is while my mouth waters. Maybe apple pie or some other delicious pastry? Peering into the test kitchen windows, I can see the shiny copper pots hanging from the ceilings like decorations. In my pure excitement, I grab Pete’s arm as we walk, and he smiles sweetly back at me.
Just when I think I’m about to have the best sequel to a first date ever, I walk into the test kitchen, and there, standing by a table in the back, is Andy.
My cheeks burn. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I let go of Pete’s arm and walk straight over to him. It’s only when I’m right in front of him that I realize he’s not the only person I recognize. Sarah’s sitting next to him, wearing a striped turtleneck under overalls. She tilts her head when I stop in front of them.
“What’re you doing here?” I try to whisper, but it comes out more as an angry hiss.
“Chocolate on a Sunday, sign me up,” Andy says. “I had no idea the CIA offered these kinds of classes until yesterday. But having real teachers from the CIA helps a newbie cook like me. Amazing.”
“Yeah, except you knew I was doing this.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a class, though,” Andy says, gesturing to the room of tables. “A lot of people are doing it….Who is that guy you came in with, by the way? Let me guess…Pete?”
I let out a sigh. “Yes, it’s Pete.”
“So is he your guy?” he asks. For a second, I have to think about what he means by that before I realize he’s asking if he’s my admirer.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“You don’t seem to know much these days.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I meet his eyes. It looks like they’re searching for something.
“Forget it. If you’d rather we leave, we can,” he says. “I was just telling Sarah about the class and we thought it would be a cool experience.”
The mention of Sarah makes me stand up straighter. I suddenly realize how ridiculous I must look. Andy said this was a class that anyone could attend. Sure, he was volunteering to leave, but how will it look if I actually take him up on that?
It definitely would give the impression I care.
Do I?
It doesn’t seem like he’s here to get under my skin. He and Sarah just think it would be a cool experience. But since when do they hang out outside the library? Are they even friends? More importantly, I have to consider Pete. If he sees Andy and Sarah leave after I’ve been talking to them, he might think there’s something going on—and there isn’t. The only reason I started hanging out with Andy is because he was willing to drive me places.
And then you started enjoying his company a little too much, I think, but I shove the thought back into my head.
“No! You guys should of course stay. Enjoy!”
“Great,” Andy says, giving Sarah a wide smile. They gaze at each other longer than friends would, but then I realize I’m the one staring at the two of them having this moment, which is even weirder. Andy turns back toward me.
“Thanks, Ella,” he says casually.
“Er…no problem,” I say, and head toward the table Pete is stationed at.
I watch Pete’s head whip around, like he’s been caught spying.
“Friend from the library,” I say, taking my place next to him. We share the table with two other couples.
“I’ve seen that girl before,” Pete says, glancing behind us at Sarah. “Aren’t you friends with her? I feel like I know her somehow.”
I shake my head. “Not really, but she goes to our school.”
“Oh,” Pete says, but he stares back again confused. I’m glad we’re sitting far enough away that he and Andy won’t be able to talk.
This class is way more complicated than I imagined it would be. The teacher passes out ingredients I’ve never heard of and starts demonstrating in front, instructing us to follow along. The organized girl in me wants to be able to take notes, but you can’t take notes when your hands are covered with chocolate and everything is on the fly.
I know Pete’s a competitive guy when it comes to basketball, but I didn’t realize his intensity would also apply to cooking. The second the teacher says there will be a contest for the best chocolate ball, he has this look in his eyes like he’s going to win. I’m actually glad he’s getting into it, because there’s no way I’m going to let Andy beat me.
There’s a bunch of steps in a row, but once I’m done carefully pouring our bowl into the chocolate mold, I peer over my shoulder to see how Andy and Sarah are doing. I watch Andy scoop his finger into the bowl and then poke Sarah on the nose, getting a spot of chocolate on it. She covers her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. When she turns away to get the chocolate off, he spins her back around and wipes the chocolate right off for her. For a second I think he’s going to lick his finger with the chocolate that was on her nose, but thankfully he wipes it off with a towel. Even so, the whole interaction is nauseating.
Why are you even watching them? I ask myself. Get it together.
“It’s a good thing you’re better at basketball than these chocolate balls.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re one to talk,” he teases. “I’ll still give you an A for effort.”
“So, uh…what are you reading right now?” I ask, resisting the urge to look back at Andy.
“Who has time to read with school?” he answers. “Not to mention I have basketball practice every day.”
“Oh right,” I say, which could be true, but I notice he doesn’t ask what book is on my nightstand right now. There’s an awkward pause instead.
“What about for school then?”
“You mean, what am I reading?”
I nod.
“Sparknotes.com.” He grins like it’s an inside joke between us, but I’m very much on the outside.
I smile, but inside my heart drops. I was really hoping that today would be a game changer for Pete and me. But so far I care more about knowing what Andy’s doing than talking to Pete, who is sitting right next to me.
If Pete’s my admirer, he’s so romantic and kind and all of the things I want in a boyfriend. Shouldn’t that count for something? Who cares if he doesn’t like to read? That’s just one quality about him.
Right, I tell myself. But right now, my heart feels as muddled as the chocolate in front of me.
“Excuse me. I have to use the restroom,” I say to Pete. Really, I just need some fresh air. Maybe the heat from the oven is what is making my head feel like it’s spinning.
“Okay, but hurry back. We can take the balls out of the freezer in four minutes. Then game time. We can start dipping these suckers.”
“Of course…,” I say, trailing off.
I really do like how into this chocolate class he is. For some reason, though, I can’t be the same….
The second I’m out of the test kitchen, I can breathe again. Still, I go to the bathroom so I can put my hands under cool water. When I see my reflection in the mirror, I’m glad I looked. I quickly reapply my lip gloss and put a little concealer on my cheeks so I don’t look so red. I shouldn’t have worn such a thick sweater to a cooking class. Once I run my hands under the cool water again, I shake my hands dry before pushing the bathroom door open.
My timing couldn’t be worse. There in front of me are Andy and Sarah, standing so close to each other their bodies are practically touching, looking right into each other’s eyes. They’re definitely more than friends. So much for Andy being jaded.
“Uh, hi, guys,” I manage to say.
“Oh, hey,” Andy says, grinning at me. Then he turns back to Sarah. “Told you I could find the bathroom.” But she’s already rushing toward the door. As she passes me, Andy turns his eyes back to me.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where the men’s bathroom is?”
“Nope,” I say. Normally, I’d make a joke about how he’s an awful detective, but seeing him and Sarah again like this was surprising. Suddenly, my mouth is all dry.
“So…you and…,” I start to say, but then I realize it’s none of my business. Here I am at a chocolate-making class with another guy, not to mention chasing the paper hearts of a mystery admirer. Obviously, Andy knew I was never interested in him and he was free to do whatever he wanted. But there’s still a part of me that feels dumb for thinking there could’ve been something between us.
“Better get going. Pete wants to start dipping the chocolate balls as soon as they’re out of the freezer.”
“We’re definitely not going to win, so we’ll be okay,” he laughs.
“Well, it would’ve helped to keep the chocolate in the pan,” I retort.
He raises an eyebrow. I realize I accidentally just admitted I was watching them. “The whole class could hear you two giggling.” I shrug, covering up for it.
“We didn’t mean to be a distraction,” he responds. But when he looks at me now there’s a glimmer in his eyes that makes me think that was his intention this whole time.
“Oh, I was far from distracted. In fact, I really do think we’re going to win.”
“Better get going, then,” Andy says. “Wouldn’t want Paul to have to accept the award alone.”
“Pete,” I correct him.
“Oh right, I knew that.”
He did. Why is he being like this?
“Okay…,” I say, walking away slowly. Normally, he would’ve said at least one flirtatious thing by now. What, is he afraid Sarah is going to hear him? I keep walking, and nothing. I don’t know what I expect, but the silence is deafening. The only sound is from my boots hitting the floor.
When I’m back at the kitchen, Pete smiles widely. “Just in time!” he says before telling me what I missed while I was in the bathroom. We begin dipping the chocolate balls into the different bowls in front of us, some with nuts, others with sprinkles and more garnishes.
Once everyone is done, the teacher walks around taking notes to determine the winner. She pauses when she gets to Andy and Sarah, but I force myself to look away before I can see her reaction.
Was the reason I was so bothered about Andy and Sarah because I was jealous? So what if he didn’t flirt with me back there? That’s all it was before, flirting. Not the romantic kind of love I really want.
Right?
Suddenly, I feel Pete nudge my shoulder. The woman in front pulls out three ribbons.
“That blue one is for us,” he whispers.
I smile weakly. The third and second place teams are called and then I hear our names as Pete fist-pumps the air next to me. We won.
I glance back at Andy to see if he’s watching me, but the chairs he and Sarah were sitting at before are empty. They didn’t even bother to stay for the awards. What could they possibly be doing together that’s more fun? I turn back to receive the ribbon and Pete’s frowning, like he knows why I was looking back.
And even though we’re technically winners, I feel like the ultimate loser.