Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter 2: What the Hell Kind Of Cake Are We Making?!

"Whatever. Can't I just change in privacy?!" I ask desperately hoping he'll leave. He shakes his head. I looked him in the eye. "Move."

With that little word, he went back to the living room. He's stupid. And he's a dick. A weirdo, a douchebag, a hot guy, stop thinking like that, a manwhore - the list goes on.

I think of more insults as I close my door and lock it, (You never know when the biggest player might barge in on you naked) and change.

Once I am comfy clothes, I go into the kitchen and look for brownies.

There are none.

I walk into the living room, clearly sulking. Then Nick goes into the kitchen. He comes out with a box in his hand. I look at him curiously.

"When you're done checking me out, we are baking a cake." I roll my eyes. That has to be the most cliché thing anyone could ever say. At least 3 wattpad books I've read have this same scenario. And they never even bake the cake! They just start a food fight and make out passionately!

I don't have a problem with that.

The food fight part. Duh.

Anyway, I drag my feet into the kitchen to see eggs, flour, milk, mix, ketchup, water, bacon, chocolate, hot dogs, and gyros stacked onto the counter.

What the hell kind of cake are we making?! "The gyros are for if we get bored waiting." Yeah, buddy. As if that clears everything up.

I start putting the eggs, flour, milk, water, cake mix, amd chocolate into a bowl. I stir it whil nick squirts ketchup into it. And he adds bacon. And hot dogs. And I slightly throw up in my mouth.

I walk out of the kitchen, throwing my apron and holding my hands up in surrender. "You know what? Suddenly, the expansion of my stomach lining has decreased to a minimum of 0.2 inches. That cake is purely abhorrent." He looks at me like I grew a second head. Scratch that, a dictionary for a second head.

I shake my head disapprovingly.

"It basically means that in no way possible would I be able to stomach the monstrosity you describe as a cake," I say as if speaking to a child.

Wait- I am.

~Tons of Sarcastic Remarks and Eye Rolls Later~

I curl up on the bed I was assigned and close my eyes. I almost fall asleep.

Emphasis on almost.

I feel a dip in the bed, indicating that there was a second person, namely Nick. Oh how I would love to turn him into the Nearly-Headless Nick. Or Fully-Headless Nick, rather.

An hour or so later, an arm drapes over me, and I turn around.

You know what I do next?

I slap him.

I know, I'm heartless. We'll talk about how awesome I am later, but now we have to get back to the story- point.

He woke up, and started to blush. He's so cu- He's so stupid when he blushes. #Savedit.

Then I notice that he's shirtless.

Oh Lord have mercy on my ovaries.

Nah! Just Kidding!

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Who can tell me what that's from? Remember to like, vote, and comment! And can someone with a funny profile pic (or nah, it don't matter) leave a comment? Those always make my day when I read them on stories.

Thank you! To those who stop to read these, whichever comment makes me laugh gets a...

Shoutout!

~ Who Knows?