The Elite

Pies

"Two tablespoons," I snapped.

"It says one and a half," Willow argued.

"Just put in two!"

"It'll fuck up the recipe!"

"I swear to God if you don't put two tablespoons in there, I will-"

"Fine," she snapped. "Just get that pole out of your ass."

I rolled my eyes and went back to making the dough. Willow and I were baking pies for a bake sale the local church was having. It had been five days since the foal was born and so far everything was going well. She forced me to go down every day to check in on it since she couldn't do it herself. Willow had gotten bored quickly, though, and jumped at the opportunity when a pastor came by asking for donations.

"Now what?" she demanded.

I looked over at the mixture of apple pie. I stuck my finger in it and tasted it. She looked disgusted.

"Now I have to start over!" she cried indignantly.

"Oh shut up. My finger was clean. It tastes good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make this dough or we'll never get the pies done in time."

"Shut up," she groaned and looked out the window.

I rolled out the dough and cut it out to put in two pie plates. I lined it and let the crust cook for a few minutes then poured the mixture in.

"You spin it, right?" she asked, looking at the leftover dough.

"Yeah," I said and showed her. "Some people prefer to do a flat cover for apple pie but I like the look of a crisscrossed top."

"How long do they cook for?"

We slid the pies in and I brushed my floury hands together.

"About 45 minutes," I answered and glanced at the clock. "We have two hours before the sale begins so that'll give it time to cool down."

"Do you think they'll be there?" she asked quietly while we washed our hands.

"I haven't said anything to the classes," I said. "Have you told anyone?" She shook her head no. "Then we should be safe. You still have it with you, though?"

"Yep," she said, patting her back pocket. "It's staying with me everywhere."

So far the threat of the check was working but, after sending the letter saying they were going to sue us, I didn't think they'd hold back much longer. I was worried but did my best to hide it.

"You're not fooling anyone," Willow said suddenly, getting on the couch and turning the TV on.

Once again, I had to make a conscious effort to look away from her legs. She was in a pair of mid-thigh shorts again and a white short sleeved shirt. Instead of her usual boots, she wore black flip flops.

"Why do you mean?" I asked, sitting beside her.

"I know you're worried," she answered. "You can stop trying to pretend you're not."

I sighed and leaned back some more. "I dunno, Willow. I don't want anyone getting hurt anymore. It's exhausting and I just want to live like a normal person."

I glared at her as she erupted into laughter.

"A normal person?" she repeated. "Nathan, there's no such thing for you or us. We'll be like this for the rest of our lives."

"You really think so?" I mumbled and she stopped laughing.

"Yeah, I do," she whispered. "There may come a time where they'll leave us alone but, every time we leave this house and people see us, they'll remember it. We'll be questioned by random people in the grocery store. Occasionally our faces will appear in the magazines when they run out of things to report." She shook her head sadly. "Nothing's going to be the same."

"I'm sorry you got pulled into this," I said and she looked over at me.

"It's not your fault, Nathan."

I scoffed. "Yeah it is, Willow. If I hadn't been such an immature bastard my parents wouldn't have wanted my sister to pull that shit."

"What if they see you've changed?" she asked. "Do you think they'll take you back?"

I frowned. "If they do, my answer is going to be a huge resounding no. I don't understand why they would do something like that to their son. There are other ways to stage an intervention without ruining your lives, too. What?" I asked when I saw her looking at me strangely.

"You care?" she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You care that my life has been-"

"Fucked up? Yeah, I do."

"Why?"

I shifted and looked back at the TV she had muted. It was some stupid infomercial. I knew she was still staring at me, though.

"We're friends now," I muttered.

Liar.

The timer went off and we both got up to check on the pies. The air around us was a little tense as I tapped the crust on top.

"They're ready," I said and took them both out. "Usually it takes an hour to cool so we'll be right on time."

"That's good," she said in a strange voice.

I looked at her. She was frowning at the stove top. The pies were on the counter on wire racks so they would cool down faster.

"Hey," I said and she looked at me for a second. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said quickly and I rolled my eyes.

"You're not fooling anyone," I mocked and she sighed, leaning her hip against the counter.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm being honest," she added when I arched a brow. "I just feel...."

"Confused?" I suggested.

"Yeah," she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Why are you confused?"

She looked at me again and, for the first time since I've known her, I realized how pretty her eyes were. Her tanned face made them pop more and her lips were red. Were they always red? I wondered what they would feel like.... Would they be soft?

I didn't realize it, but our faces were inches away. My hand was on the counter top and slid on top of hers. She was breathing quicker and I felt a batch of nerves that were very unfamiliar. Her eyes closed. I was centimeters away. Just a few more seconds and-

"Those kids will never learn!"

Willow and I jumped and turned to the back door. Aaron stormed in, looking severely pissed off and wiping sweat from his face.

"What happened?" Willow asked, stepping away from me and I felt a little disappointed.

"How many times do I need to tell them to hold the reins loose!?" he complained and I quickly got him a can of beer from the fridge.

Willow grimaced. "Are these the Lane twins?"

"Yes," he sighed, sitting down heavily. "What're the pies for?"

"Church bake sale," she answered. "Do you want to come?"

"Eh, why not?" he said. "I'll go shower."

"How's the foal?" she asked anxiously.

He smiled. "He's just fine, Willow."

She nodded and he went up the stairs. I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my neck. I didn't know what to say or do and she seemed to be having the same problem. Part of me wanted to grab her face and kiss her but the other part was too worried I'd ruin our friendship. I tried to look at her but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

So, instead of speaking, we stood in silence for the whole time her dad was in the shower. As we were walking to the church, though, each of us holding a pie, she whispered.

"I'm not sure which of us is more stubborn."