𝐈 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Althea

If there was one thing to know about Jonesy Claypoole, it was that she was excellent at not talking. She was comfortable with silence even after being asked very important questions. Her ability to deflect was astounding and incredibly annoying.

  After leaving the bathroom, Jonesy crashed on her bed, saying that she was exhausted and wanted to sleep off the alcohol. I had agreed but couldn't help but feel slightly discarded; she hadn't mentioned anything about our almost kiss and oddly intimate hug.

  Another thing I would have to add to the list of things she refused to talk about, right under the conversation that happened in Gemma's bathroom.

  I could feel the frustration build up in my chest, slowly turning into anger. Why did she never want to talk about it? Or about anything that had happened between us in the past few days? It was like she only ever wanted to live in the moment and talking about it would ruin the image in her mind afterwards.

  I was usually a stickler for communication, but who was I to judge since I had been purposefully ignoring Aiden since this morning. He had sent several texts in a row after I had messaged him saying I was skipping classes but would be down at the rink in time for auditions. He had asked if something was wrong and if he needed to come over, I had lied and said I needed more time to prep and catch up on some homework.

  I didn't feel like it was any of his business that I stayed home to clean up my bloody roommate who wouldn't tell me how and why she was bleeding. The same roommate I had disappeared with at Gemma's party.

"You look like you're going to burn a hole into the oven door." Jonesy's voice broke through my thoughts and I looked up at her from where I was crouched in front of the oven.

  I would forever be thankful that the Maybanks dormitories were built into an old apartment complex, each one equipped with a washer, dryer, and working oven.

  I stood and gave her a light chuckle. "I was just watching my cookies."

"Very intently, I see. Chocolate chip?" Jonesy walked to the counter and lifted the bowl of dough up to her nose before I could answer. A bright smile crossed her face as she realized she was correct. "Can you pass me a spoon?"

"For what?" I asked, grabbing her a spoon from the drawer anyway.

"I mean, unless you want me to eat this with my fingers." Her lips pulled back into a coy smirk. "You'd probably like that, huh?"

  My face grew hot and I shook my head, holding out the spoon. "Shut up and take the fucking spoon. You're not sticking your fingers into my cookie dough." Jonesy choked back a laugh at my comment and I tried my best to hide my own laughter.

  She took the spoon with a triumphant smile and scooped up a large bite of raw dough before shoveling it into her mouth. She let out a soft moan and gave me a nod of approval.

"That has raw eggs in it," I pointed out, turning back to the oven.

"A little salmonella never killed anybody."

I was pretty sure many people had died from salmonella poisoning but I didn't tell her that. "It's disgusting."

  The timer went off and I grabbed the oven mitts. After taking the sheet of cookies out of the oven and placing them on the counter, I grabbed a glass cup from next to the sink.

"Why are you baking cookies at..." Jonesy glanced down at her watch. "Eleven in the morning?" She had finished her spoonful of cookie dough and now that she had nothing to occupy herself with, she was staring intently at me.

"My mother always told me to bake whenever I was dealing with a big emotion; since baking usually takes a long time, it gives me time to cool down and process that emotion." I answered, placing the glass cup over one of the cookies and shaping it into the perfect circle.