Painting romance - Choose your ending

Chapter 17: Dinner

Two weeks have passed.

Two weeks where my head couldn't stop thinking about a certain someone.

Or maybe that was my heart?

I received a million flirty texts.

A thousand emails with the same topic.

And a couple approaches, but all with the same cocky undertone.

I never saw the vulnerable Maxen from in his room, so I ignored all of it.

Correction, I read everything, I just didn't reply.

It's Friday again and I am looking at my bag smashed in my locker.

Weekend at dad's I sigh as I realize that I will be alone the entire weekend.

Mason said he had a friend thingy, that's his way of saying you won't see me.

Maybe I should just throw a massive party.

Right and then, who would come to my party?

Maybe I could invite over my friends?

Or maybe not, I don't want to explain all the art on the walls.

Eyeroll.

"So, dad's?" Remi asks.

I nod my head as we walk out of school.

"Any plans?" I ask Remi.

"Practice and the away game." He smirks.

"You know I could always arrange for you to have a seat on the bus" Remi says.

"Yeah, right next to Anne-Marie, I presume."

Remi laughs loudly.

"I was thinking next to Rue, but if you want to sit next to Anne-Marie that's fine by me."

"I'll think about it." I smile and wave goodbye as I start walking in the direction of my father's house.

Just as I expected, home alone.

A note lays on the counter next to a credit card.

'We are at a friend's house, order something to eat. Love you dad'

I sigh and pull the fridge open.

Luckily Claire has done some groceries and the fridge is stuffed.

Maybe cooking would take my mind of things.

What do I fancy?

Maxen with just an apron standing in my kitchen.

Focus Michelle.

Maxen naked on the counter.

Melanzane alla parmigiana it is.

I grab eggplant, mozzarella and parmesan from the fridge.

Tomatoes and basil from the counter.

I am not doing it the traditional way, smirk.

I fry slashes of peeled eggplant and assemble little towers where I switch between eggplant, tomato and mozzarella. I top it all off with parmesan and slide it in the oven.

An hour of hard work, but delicious food in about twenty minutes.

I remove my apron as I finish cleaning the kitchen. I loosen my bun and the curls dangle around me.

I take a deep breath and smile, the heavenly odors are filling up the house already.

And right in that moment the doorbell rings.