Recipe for Disaster

Ingredients for trouble

It all started with a cup of milk.

It was late, and I was baking some treats to hand out to the neighbors, as a way to get to know them better.

This was going to be my first year at Adelwood University (AU), a small college near the mountains of California. With college starting in a few months, I was looking for a cheap place to stay that would be close enough for me to commute from (The dorm housing was quite expensive for being such an obscure university).

Although small in population, Adelwood had some extremely cheap housing options that were less than ten miles away from AU. And since the town was so small and unknown, I had quite a few options to chose from.

Now since I was new to the neighborhood, I wanted to make a good impression on the neighbors. I thought baking and delivering some homemade chocolate chip cookies would be a good way to introduce myself to the few residents.

I probably should've bought more milk in preparation for the cookies, but I didn't think cookies were supposed to be that difficult to make. I mean I definitely didn't expect to waste so much milk in my first few attempts. I doubt the neighbors would appreciate my homemade cookie crumbles. In hindsight, I probably should've buttered the pan before placing the cookie dough in the oven.

But it's not that big of a deal. The next batch would be even better. Well, it would've been, if I hadn't wasted so much milk on the previous attempts.

For crying out loud, I just needed one more cup of milk! My empty milk carton on the kitchen counter was mocking me.

Now I probably could've asked the neighbors to borrow some of their milk, but I felt like that probably wouldn't leave the best impression, especially since I had only decided to start baking at two in the morning (due to my expert procrastination skills). But hey, a trip to the grocery store never hurt anyone? Besides, there was one less than a mile away from my house (another perk of my new house). The trip would be quick. I'd be in and out.

Well that's what I thought.

Grabbing my keys, my purse, and my jacket, I slipped out of the house and began my walk to the convenience store across the street.

The parking lot was empty, except for two cars. One, was a sky blue Jeep, kept in pretty good shape. The other was a black van—probably belonging to someone who planned to re-stock and re-supply. Honestly, I didn't think much just of it.

That was my first mistake. 

I opened the front door and made my way down the aisle. Walking towards the back of the store, I opened the refrigerator, grabbed the milk, and briskly made my way over to the cashier. She was checking out a customer's items. The only other customer in the store.

His hair—although messy—didn't take away from the rest of his looks. His hazel eyes matched perfectly with his unkempt locks. Even the terrible lighting in the grocery store couldn't distract from his unblemished olive skin. I couldn't help but stare.

He slid his card, grabbed his shopping bag and walked out.

"That'll be $4.25." The Cashier's tired voice echoed through the empty store.

I snapped out of my daze and handed her a five dollar bill. Tapping my hand against the counter, I felt my fingers brush against something thin. A card. More specifically, an ID— his ID. I gave it a quick glance.

Daryn Wilde

With haste, I grabbed my milk and his card and jogged outside. The Van was still there. But mystery Boy was nowhere in site. Just to be sure, I checked around the corner.

"Dang it, I think I missed him."

The sound of a car door slamming shut interrupted my thoughts. A rustling followed soon after. Not wanting to stay around any longer than necessary, I tucked the milk under my armpit like a football and made a beeline towards the direction of my house. I could always give Daryn his card back some other time.

The run to the house was quick, and it wasn't long before I was back on my front porch. After slipping inside, I made sure to lock the door. I took a deep breath safe in the comfort of my house. I set the milk down on the counter and turned on the lights.

I held back a scream.

There on my couch was Daryn Wilde.
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Authors corner:
Maybe he's just there for the cookies?

Thanks for reading, and have a blessed day!