Pucker-Up

Chapter Seven - Gaby

The smell of tomato pasta sauce is present as I unlock my apartment door, closing it behind me. My best-friend and now roommate, Isabelle, in the kitchen cooking up a storm for our dinner. "'Ello." I try not to startle her over the loudness of the stove fan blasting, which is sucking in all the steamy air. She turns with a smile, her brown hair wrapped back in a low bun and held together with a claw-clip. "Hey Gabs. How was your day?" She asks as she dries her hands with the tea towel and I pause for a moment, thinking for the right response — I swear Isabelle gives me a look that already seems like she knows somethings up. "It was a day." I reply safely and walk into the kitchen, looking down to the spaghetti in the boiling water on the stove. When Isabelle and I were still at school, we would have weekly movie nights at each others houses since we lived only two blocks away. Each and every time I went to her place, her dad always made us pasta. It was really good every time, but I still haven't mention that pasta isn't my favourite form of food... but it's been growing on me.
"Well you need to tell me all about it, I miss the gossip from school." She scoops the pot from in front of me, moving over to the sink and pouring all the hot water and spaghetti into a strainer so the water could go down the drain to the sink. "Ehh. That's my least favourite part." She scoffed and came back to the stove to stir the tomato base sauce, letting me see this as the time to get bowls and cutlery ready. She serves me up a portion of pasta with sauce and does the same for herself.

I sit at the table and Isabelle sits across from me, still giving me a look. "Well-? What went on for you today?" She stares me down while spinning her fork in her pasta, getting it all wrapped up before lifting it from the pile and blowing it to cool down. I've been best friends with her for over six years and it never gets any easier talking to each other about boys. I don't think there's anything more embarrassing than saying you're interested in a guy. "You know the 'Philosophy Boy'?" I cringe at my sentence, my fork dragging across my spaghetti. "Literally how could I forget? Are you two in each others class again?" She eats her dinner, watching as I nod and her eyes widen a bit. "Even better, I got paired with him for a project." I say sarcastically happy, and the look of shock doesn't leave her face, raising a napkin over her orange-ish coloured lips from the sauce. I feel my face redden when I look down to my pasta, twirling my fork in it. "And yeah we had lunch togeth— only to work on the project but- yeah." Isabelle's jaw is on the table, then smiling brightly "Oh. My. God."

—

An hour or two later we were both sitting on the lounge, watching some trashy rom-com we both despise but yet sit through. It's weird that I want to keep talking about Mathew even though I'm embarrassed, but I decided to keep it to myself. As I open my phone, I still have his contact number open from where we let off. "You have his number???" I didn't realise how close Isabelle was sitting to me, obviously staring down to my phone. I quickly move to guard it by my chest. "You need to message him!" She yaps eagerly and reaches for my phone. "Girl hell no. The study grind is more important than the boys, they're just side quests." We both laugh and she rolls her eyes with a smile as she takes my phone. I watch closely as she taps the message button and I slap my hand over the screen. "Fine I'll message him- but I'm writing- you can just help with what to say." She grins deviously and I instantly regret saying that.