Cheesecake with a Bite
I’m applying mascara the next morning when I get a text from Hunter.
Hunter: Can’t wait to C U later today.
Allandra: Me too :)
Hunter: Want to sit together at lunch today?
Allandra: Sure. I always sit with Becca and Ginna. You can to come to us or should we come to you?
Hunter: Don’t care. Either way. Just want to sit by U. C U soon.
Allandra: Yep. See you soon.
There is a knock on the bathroom door. “Yes?” I ask.
“You almost done? I need to ask you something.” It’s Jackson.
I open the door. “What is it?” I sigh. “I’m trying to get ready.”
“I heard Hunter was all over you yesterday. Mack heard him talking about a girl, and I’m thinking it’s you. I’m gonna warn him to be decent to you. Or else.” His eyes are narrowed, brows furrowed.
I’ve never seen Jackson like this about me before. He’s hopping mad.
“I’m gonna warn him not to mess around with my sister. He better be decent to you.” Jackson’s green eyes go hard beneath his impossibly long lashes. I’ve always felt it completely unfair that he inherited them and I did not.
I glare at him, point a finger up at him. “Jackson, don’t you dare. All he did was kiss me.”
“Well, I heard a lot more.” He is frowning.
“I can take care of myself. Besides, I like him. Please don’t say anything to ruin this for me.” I’m so shocked he is like this. He never seems to give a crap about me.
“Well, this is different. He’s … I don’t know. I don’t like it.” He shakes his head, and his hair flops.
Dad is still here. I see him come up behind Jackson. “You don’t like what?” Dad asks.
Crap. I don’t need Dad to weigh in on this.
“I thought you went to work already,” Jackson says.
“I am, in about five minutes. Everything OK?” Dad asks with a worried look.
“Yes, it’s all fine. Jackson is just being dumb about a guy who likes me.”
“Oh?” Dad asks. “Who is he? What’s his name?”
I smile. “His name is Hunter, and he’s amazing.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Dad says. I notice a new streak of gray hair along his right temple. At least, I don’t remember it there before.
“I’m watching him, and I’m gonna tell him so,” Jackson says.
Dad’s eyes get big, matching Jackson’s concern. “You don’t like this Hunter?”
Jackson is frowning pretty hard. “No. He’s a boy.”
I laugh. “Jackson, you’re a boy.”
He just stomps off, which I’m happy for. I don’t want to talk to him anymore.
“Hmmm … you are being careful with who you hang out with, aren’t you?” Dad asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, Dad. I am. Jackson is just being dumb.” I smile big so Dad sees my right cheek dimple. He’s a sucker for my dimple.
“OK, well, still, I’d like to meet him sometime.” He gives me a hug and kisses the top of my head. “I gotta go. Don’t forget, I’m leaving Thursday for Texas.”
“Yep, I remember.”
“Love you, Landra.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
At the bus stop, Becca is staring at her phone reading. Her lips are painted a deep red today. “Ready for some amazing cheesecake today?”
“I guess. That boy is giving me extra laps on the treadmill.”
“Tell him that. He probably would like to imagine it.” She looks up and laughs at her own joke. “Guy looked like he was in full enjoyment when you chewed that cake yesterday. It was effing hilarious. Good sense of humor.” She laughs a hearty laugh. “At least that boy’s got you eating something. That’s no minor challenge. Trust me, I’ve been trying to shove food into you for years now.”
“Ah, shut it, Becca. You know me. I eat.” I slump my shoulders.
“Yeah, you just munch on air.” She snorts.
I frown and don’t speak. I scroll my phone instead.
After I’m silent for a minute, she looks me in the eyes and says, “Now you’re mad. I’m sorry.” She touches my arm. “I just worry about you.”
In her eyes, there is a kindness that is maybe even a bit sad. I nod but can’t speak because I may burst into tears if I take a breath to respond. She side-hugs me as the bus pulls up. First Jackson lunges at me about Hunter and now Becca about eating. I trudge onto the bus carrying my empty belly along for the ride. This day is starting out rough.
The first hour of class crawls along so slowly. I chew my spearmint gum in hopes Hunter might come kiss me after class again. That would cheer me up. I walk to my locker feeling a bit light-headed. I should have eaten a carrot. Or the remaining skinny sliver of Brian’s carrot cake in the fridge. Jackson loved it last night. He devoured almost the whole remainder of the cake, leaving just a small bit, though I told him he could have it. It’s not like Mom ever makes cake for us. She’s gone so much and works so hard, but I miss her. Would love a piece of Mom’s carrot cake. Maybe I would eat that too.
There is a thin cheese-wedge magnet on my locker when I arrive. I peel it up and laugh. Brian.
“What’s got you smiling and giggling?” It’s Hunter. He’s come up behind me, and then his hands are on my shoulders, spinning me around. “Cheese?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. His tight shirt shows off all his arm and chest muscles today, making him so hot that I want to touch all those muscles, like right freaking now.
“Just a joke from a friend.” I wrap my fingers around the cheese magnet and slip it into my pocket as Hunter pulls me close for a kiss, and—yay!—I get to touch his chest. His mouth is hot and wet on mine, and our lips part. The kiss is so intense, I almost forget where I am.
“Hmm … you taste like spearmint. My favorite.” We kiss again.
I hand him a piece of spearmint gum as he starts to walk away. “A piece to remember me by the rest of the day.”
He smiles and stuffs it in his mouth. I wave with my heart jumping up and down like a trapped leapfrog inside my chest, holding my hand over my heart to try and calm it, but it doesn’t work.
In class, Brian holds up a piece of paper with the word cheese on it and nods. I smile and nod back. He gives me a thumbs-up and points to his wrist at an imaginary watch. Keeps nodding as I giggle.
At free hour, the three of us meet at the table—same time, same place. Brian is already there with a shiny scarlet box in the middle of the table.
“Hellos to my dessert girls.” Brian lifts the lid of the scarlet box. “Triple-berry cheesecake, freshly prepared by yours truly last evening in my humble abode.”
“Wow. That looks more than amazing. It’s gorgeous,” Becca says. “I can’t wait to try it.”
“It’s very pretty, Brian.” And it really is. Foodie-magazine worthy.
He pulls out paper plates, forks, napkins, and a plastic knife. He saws into the creamy cheesecake, and the purple and red juices from the triple-berry mixture ooze down the side in dark streams. It looks solid and decadent, like a firm satin pillow.
He hands the piece to me. “Blackberry, raspberry, and blueberry. A divine combo with cheesecake.”
The thought of putting that monstrosity in my belly slugs a sucker punch to my gut. I can’t eat this. What was I thinking?
“I spent hours on this—neglected homework and stayed up half the night finishing it—so you gotta try it.” He sets his eyes on me, and something breaks in me. “Pretty please, with berries on top?”
He slaved over this for me. For me. I’ve never made a cheesecake in my life, never even wanted to. But here is this boy, a boy I just can’t seem to bring myself to disappoint in this moment. I carve out the tip of a slice and swoop my fork into the berries. At least there is fruit here. I pop the cheesecake into my mouth, and the flavor is like an explosion. It’s creamy, rich, luxurious, smoldering in its decadence. The tartness of the berries slams into my tongue, giving my taste buds a thrill ride of sweetness. It’s fucking amazing.
I can’t even talk as I chew. I shake my head and lay my hand flat on the table.
Becca says, “Me, me, me.”
Brian cuts out a slice for her, and one for himself.
“Unbelievable,” I say. This cheesecake has me scooping out another forkful without any prompting. I pop the next bite into my mouth.
Becca moans her love for this cheesecake. Rather loudly.
Brian has both palms resting on the table, fingers outstretched, frozen in the air as he waits. “This is killing me. Give me more. Do you like it?”
“Best. Ever.” I smile at him. “You are good.” Mom and Jackson would be so proud of me right now, letting myself indulge and enjoy. Jackson would probably applaud.
“This is the best cheesecake I have ever eaten in my entire life. I could eat this every day for the rest of my life and never get bored. How do you do this, Brian? Did you really make up this recipe?” Becca asks.
I nod in agreement. “Best ever,” I say. “Heavenly and delicious.”
“Ha. Indeed, I did make it up.” He doesn’t even take a bite, just watches me eat.
I eat exactly half, and I’m full. “You are going to make me gain five hundred pounds at this rate.” I laugh, but I’m not kidding.
“And I’d still have the hots for ya.” He grins and takes a bite of his cheesecake.
I laugh. “Seriously, this really is good. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like this before.”
“Then I’m a success,” he says with a smile, before polishing off his entire piece.
I sneak another bite of mine, then push it away. “Oh, that was so good.”
“Nothing is as good as seeing you enjoy it. Nothing.” He sits back, gazing at me.
“Brilliant, Brian. Simply brilliant. You’d make Martha Stewart jealous with this,” Becca says.
I laugh. She hates Martha, so I can’t believe she brought her up. Though her mom loves her stuff. That’s probably why Becca hates her so much.
“I’m surprised you don’t take a video of me eating so you can view it in the privacy of your room later.” I nod at his phone, widen my eyes, giving him my best teasing look.
His eyes brighten. He sits up straight with a mock laugh. “You’d let me?”
“Ah, no way. I was joking.” I laugh. I pull out my spearmint gum and offer a piece to both Brian and Becca. Brian takes one. Becca declines.
“I need to drop off an assignment,” she says. “But thank you, Brian, and I look forward to your next treat.”
“Me too,” he says. As Becca walks off, he says, “Now, about that video … ”
Becca turns and cackles at us, shakes her head as she walks away.
I laugh. “Brian, stop. There will be no videoing.”
“But I want to savor the look of enjoyment on your face. Although they are all ingrained in my memory. I don’t even really need a video.”
“You are such a perv,” I say, but I can’t not laugh at him.
“Nah—this is true love. No perv here.” His eyes twinkle and speak of mischief. He packs the cheesecake back into the shiny box.
“Seems like pervitude to me.”
“That’s not even a word.” He smirks. “Come on. Pervitude?”
“So what. It fits.” I smile teasingly. “It should be a word.”
“Call it in to Google. Maybe they can make it official.” He smiles at me. “But back to the important stuff. I’m having fun making you food. What would you like tomorrow? I can make something healthy too, ya know. It doesn’t always have to be a dessert.”
Thank goodness. “OK. I’m in. Surprise me.”
“Challenge accepted. I have the perfect idea. Maybe two perfect ideas to tease your palate into munching on my handmade creations.” He stands up, and his tall frame towers over me, curving over me like a roof as I sit checking my phone. “Wait,” he says. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I am reading a text from Hunter that ends with the word “kiss,” so my brain stops there, remembering his lips on mine.
He sits back down. “I was wondering if maybe I could take you out on Saturday. We could go to a real restaurant to eat. I know an amazing one I think you’d love that has awesome healthy food, or we could go bowling or to a movie. Like a real date.”
I bust out laughing, snort even, thinking he’s joking in his flirty way again. “With you? Oh, you freak. You just don’t ever stop being my ultimate pest, do you?” But when I look up, I see it. His hands are shaking, and the teasing, confident Brian is completely gone. In his place is this shivering mess of a boy. One whose heart I will have to break. I take a deep breath. Fuck nuggets. I did not expect this.
“Oh,” he says, and takes a step back. He stares at the ugly scuffed tile floor.
What in the hell do I say now? “Brian … I’m sorta seeing Hunter Nelson right now. He and I have a date planned for Friday, and I … ”
“Oh,” he says again, hands still shaking as he sits back down in a plop. “I see.” He slumps in his chair. Picks up the scarlet cheesecake box. Sets it down. “Please take this. I made it for you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
And then he just leaves, head down, shoulders curved, making him seem way shorter than his true height. I want to cry. What have I done to this poor boy?