The Hunted

Chapter Ten • Rose

Chapter Ten • Rose

 When dinner came around John and I attempted to make baked chicken breast with a side of mashed potatoes. I was never really skilled in the cooking department. Since my parents were usually never around for dinner, frozen precooked meals or cereal were my main options.

            I had to admit, though, we did a pretty darn good job. I tried to help out by making the potatoes, but all I really did was make a big mess. “Would you like some help?” John asked as he glanced over at my “working station” in the corner of the kitchen.

            I stopped what I was doing and nodded. He came up to me and took the pan of potatoes from my hands and smiled. “Okay, first of all you peel them.” He held up a brown wrinkled potato and a vegetable scrubber. I nodded again and he continued. “Then you cube them.” He reached behind me to get a knife. He set it aside next to the potatoes and vegetable scrubber. “Then you boil them, drain them, and mash them. That’s the fun part.” He smiled playfully, “Think you can handle it all?”

            “I’m pretty sure I can, Big Brown Wolf.” I patted his head and began cooking.

            John started breading the chicken pieces with flour and bread crumbs. He looked like a really cute housemaid with flour all over his hands. A really, really cute housemaid.

            “Do you like cooking?” I asked as I waited for the potatoes to boil. I crossed my arms and leaned my back on the counter top.

            He looked up but continued to work. “Yeah, actually I do. It sort of helps me take my mind off things, ya know? Why do you ask?”

            “I don’t know. You just seem like a whole other person when you cook.”

            “Really?”  He put the chicken in the oven and stood by my side. “What do you mean?”

            “Well, you just get really quiet, and you look all professional. Chef Wilson. Hey, it has a ring to it.”

            He smiled and said, “With his beautiful assistant, Miss Sinnet.”

            John picked me up and set me on the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer. “I like the sound of that.” I grinned. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and kissed my smile away with his forceful yet gentle lips. His palms were pressed against my hips holding me in place. My fingers brushed through his hair. He tried to reach for my chin but missed. I heard a thud and opened my eyes. White powder danced all over the floor.

“Crap.” John moaned as he cupped his hands over his head. I don’t know why, because nothing was funny, but I started laughing. John turned around sharply and stared at me. “You think this is funny, huh?” He smirked, grabbing a small handful of flour, while throwing it at me. I screamed and covered my face with my hands. I smiled and grabbed a handful, too. Before we knew it, we were having an old fashion flour fight.

             “I think I won.” He boasted, looking around the small dim kitchen. The cabinets which were golden only a few moments before, were now painted a faint powdery white. “My mom’s going to kill us.”

            “Well then we’ll die together.” I took his floury hand. He leaned over for another kiss, but I had other ideas. I swiped a small mound of flour off the counter top and pressed it on his nose. He made a face and sighed. “Surprise attack.” I bragged triumphantly, kissing his cheek.

            By the time John’s mom came home from work, we had somehow managed to get the kitchen perfectly clean.

            “Hi Mom,” John greeted her with a smile. “Let me help you.” He took her bags out of her hands and set them on the floor.