Baking With Boys |✔

52. Tapioca Pudding

Brandon, Bea, and I stuck together throughout the bus ride. It was a tough one since the cameraman stayed glued to us like we were besties. It was a relief when he finally took a rest and left us alone after we had worn him out with our silence and disinterest. As soon as he went far enough to be out from our hearing range, I alerted Bea. 

Her eyebrows shot up, having no clue about what we were going to tell her, and what hidden motive we had while choosing her.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing my hesitance in saying anything further.

Just to make sure we had no audience, I inspected the surroundings. The seats around us were empty. Except for Sarah and Leonard, who sat two seats in front. It was possible for them to eavesdrop but that was highly unlikely, since they had earphones in their ears, and even bobbing their head up and down with the beat.

Rest sat even further ahead, busy in their own world. Satisfied that we were as desolated as possible, I continued.

"Look," I started, darting my tongue out to lick my bottom lip. I winced when the flavour of strawberry lip gloss spread inside my mouth and made me certain that I had eaten half of my lip product again. Shaking that thought, I completed my sentence, "We're not just baking today.

Bea frowned, digesting the information in a rather hostile manner. It made Brandon and I grimace, worried that we might have made the wrong choice.

Then, almost magically, her expression transformed, her eyes brightening up. "Oh my God, you guys are having a runaway marriage, right? And I get to be the bridesmaid?!"

Her voice was too high for comfort and panicked, we shot her down with hushes. Still, I shot a glare at Brandon, reminded of his cruel joke again. He avoided my eyes like plague. Our short glances at each other made Bea strengthen her reason, and she started to fan herself, grinning from ear to ear.

Before I could stop her, she went on again. "How did he propose to you? I bet it was romantic!"

"Proposed?" I mumbled, my voice too low for anyone besides me to hear. "He hasn't even asked me out yet."

"It'll be amazing! And in a foreign country too." She clasped her hands, continuing on, unaware. I watched as she put on the Disney-princess expression, with twinkling eyes (and teeth brighter than my future), releasing a dreamy sigh. I pulled back, letting her do her thing. Her expression dulled for a moment. "Are you going to wear that? Or do you have a dress planned?"

Bea wasn't even looking at us while she blabbered on. Brandon nudged me, and I shrugged. With a simultaneous sigh, we laid back on our seats, and let her empty her energy with her talking.

Two minutes later, her rambling stopped. "So, what is the plan?"

I waited to see if she was indeed listening. Seemed like she was. With a heavy sigh, I said in a deliberate slow tone, "Bea, we aren't having a runaway marriage."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"Yeah... Brandon didn't propose to me—"

She cut me off, snapping her head to Brandon. "Why didn't you?"

Brandon looked like a bear caught in the headlights. He turned to me, his eyes pleading help. I shook my head while clicking my tongue. This wasn't getting any better. "Bea, neither of us wants to get married."

"Oh." She pursed her lips and then broke out into an awkward laugh. "I was joking!"

"Right," I said, "Let's talk about the main thing now?"