8. "I'm half naked."

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I sat down. Then I stood up and paced around. Then Vic grabbed my hand and pulled me to sit next to her. Then I stood up again. Then Madi came and told me it's going to be fine. But I was nervous. I was scared. I was excited.

My hands shook, and my heart raced as if I were running off no sleep and five energy drinks. I felt like I had a big exam coming up, and I stayed up the whole night studying.

I sat down again, and when a knock came, I jumped up. We all stood frozen for a second before Vic jumped forward to open it. And there he stood. In a simple outfit: black jeans, a black shirt, and his black leather jacket. I smiled at how opposite we looked. I wore light blue jeans with cutouts that were tied with string on my hips, showing my honey skin, and a burgundy long-sleeved cropped top. My red hair was in a half-loose, half-up style that I paired with gold jewelry.

He stopped, bowing at Vic and Madi when he saw me, and stopped. He stared, his mouth agape. I couldn't look away from his gaze, and we ended up standing there, staring at each other for what felt like 5 minutes. Shaking my head, I smiled.

"Hey you." I took a step towards him, and he reached for my hand. Kissing my palm, he smiled.

"Hey. You ready?" I nodded and said bye to the smirking girls as we walked out. Chan still holding my hand.

***

Three minutes, we drove. He spoke of how Felix baked a new recipe for a cake, and it flopped, and how mad he was.

"I'd love to bake with him one day. I love baking." I spoke in between hums to the song.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was a dream of mine to be a baker one day." I say this as we stop, and he switches the car off.

"That's interesting. You're interesting." He smirked, and I laughed out loud.

"And you're lame. But I like it." We put our masks on and walked in.

***


Since I didn't know what to order, he ordered some grilled pork and veggies. A lot of veggies. Which he found funny and apparently adorable that I diagnosed myself as allergic to all of them unless I really liked them.

"Tell me more about your baking dream." He put his napkin down and sat back.

"Well.." I looked around before settling back on him. "I love working in the kitchen. I love baking more because it has rules and steps where cooking goes according to taste. You know." He nodded.

"And I'm not as creative to create new things, so I prefer something that's already done."

"I get that, yes." He spoke but nodded for me to continue.

"It used to be mine and my mom's thing. She'd cook or bake and be like, 'Elle, come help me' or 'Come try this'. And I fell in love with the fact that I could make something so beautiful and delicious."

"What about your dream? To be a baker?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, as the waiter came and took our things. I leaned forward as well and smiled.

"I wanted this cute little cottage like shop. We'd have everything you can think of and have time to give, like to senior homes or orphanages. Help out, you know?" I looked away from his intense stare, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

He took my hand and brushed his thumb over my knuckles.

"That's amazing, Elle. Your dream can say a lot about you, and the fact that you don't even have it and you plan to help others? You really are amazing." I blush now, looking at his hand holding mine. Too scared to look at him.

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