Smells Like Winter

15: Raging Over a Pancake

Maddy woke up by the rumbling of her empty stomach, a woozy sensation spread all over her wary body.

She was starving. She hadn't really had any dinner last night, her anxiety twisting her stomach and making her lose her appetite.

She pulled herself up and dragged her feet to the kitchen.

Time to make breakfast.

She opened and closed cupboards, drawers, the fridge, routing for something to eat. Her stomach made a low, rolling sound.

"Pancakes it is, then," she spoke to it, patting her belly.

She rummaged in one of the drawers in search of flour and sugar. Nothing. She pushed the drawer with her knee and it closed with a clang. Then she opened a high cupboard, standing on the tip of her toes to reach it. Her hands fumbled in it, fingering the various products.

"Damn it, where is it?" she mumbled.

"What are you doing?"

Startled at the closeness of the voice right behind her, she slammed the cupboard shut and twirled around, grasping the kitchen counter, made of light brown granite.

"It's literally five in the morning," said Carter, sleepily rubbing an eye with his hand. His morning voice was equal parts sexy and cute, making Maddy's stomach give a little jump.

She blamed it on the hunger.

He was only a couple of meters away from her in his black hoodie and sweatpants, his hair messy and his black eyes puffy. He had just woken up.

"Then why aren't you sleeping?" she finally spoke.

"Because you woke me up," he accused her. "I thought there was a mouse trolling in the cupboards or something."

Maddy ignored his last comment and asked: "Do you know where the flour is? Or the sugar?"

"I don't live here, princess. I have no idea."

"Great." She opened another cupboard. "Are you going to make yourself useful or are you planning on just standing there?"

"Nah, I think I'm good." He pulled out one of the kitchen stools and sat comfortably in front of the table.

Maddy wanted to punch him, but just when she was about to turn around, she finally found the flour and sugar. It was time.

"You're making breakfast?" asked Carter.

"Yeah, pancakes. And you won't get a single bite," she told him coldly.

"That's mean."

"You're meaner."

"You like it deep down."

Okay.

"You always have something to say, don't you?" she huffed, setting a frying pan on the stove and turning the burner on.

He didn't bother to answer.

She grabbed the milk, butter and some eggs from the fridge and kicked the door shut with her foot. Perhaps the milk was past its expiration date, but Maddy didn't seem to care much. She placed a large bowl on the table and started preparing the batter. Stirring the ingredients together with a wooden spoon, she could feel his eyes on her and thought she must look really bad with her untameable morning hair and sleepy, puffy eyes or swollen lips.