newspaper club | spot conlon au

24. Brownies

"I just feel really bad, you know?" I say to Spot as he multitasks listening and reading the laundry pamphlet. What's Home Ec II without a little heart to heart?

"I told you, it wasn't a big deal." 

"Look, Spot, I know you have no appreciation for manners or hospitality, but that's not how I was raised," 

"I thought you raised yourself," 

  Needless to say, Spot had no filter.   

"Harsh," I rolled my eyes. "You make me regret telling you my family situation,"

"You make it sound like I beg you to have deep conversations with me," He folds the blanket according to the pamphlet. "Am I doing this right?" 

"Spot Conlon asking for help?" I take it from him. "I want to make it up to your mom. What if I made brownies?" 

"Brownies," He rose an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, brownies." 

"You can cook?" 

"I raised myself, remember?" I notice him slightly chuckle. 

"Right." 

"So, if I make them, can I count on you to deliver?" 

"Your apology, your problem," 

"It's not really apologizing," I say. "It's more of an 'Hey, I know Stacie and I made a scene, so here's some brownies to make it up to you,' thing." 

"Then why isn't she apologizing?" He makes a pointed look. 

"We've met the girl," I scoff. 

"Fine, fine, make your stupid brownies and move on," 

I clap excitedly. 

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Apparently, I can't bake brownies. 

I swear, though, I'm a good cook. I used to make myself dinner all the time. I'm also good at following instructions, so I'm not sure what the issue is. 

"Okay, add eggs," I read out loud to myself in the dorm building kitchen. 

I somehow managed to get everything in order by myself. I contemplated asking Sarah, but I'm sure she was busy. 

I poured the batter into a pan from the kitchen and opened the oven. 

"Watch out, fresh batter comin' through!" A girl grinned, putting her own creation in the oven. 

I watched as she walked out with another girl, high fiving each other. Did they seriously make their brownie mix outside the kitchen? Looking at the mess I made, I can imagine that wasn't very ideal. 

I shrugged to myself and put my batter into the oven, closing it. 

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Alice: I made the brownies about a half hour ago, so can I go get them and give them to you? 

Spot: I suppose...

Alice: -.-

Spot: ;))

Alice: see u in a few. 

I went to the kitchen, put on a mitt and opened the oven. The brownies looked amazing! Spot's mom would be so impressed. Not sure why I care this much, but she seemed to like me, and I want to keep it that way. 

I put them in a plastic box, and sealed them. I cleaned up the mess, and set off for Spot's dorm. 

"Thanks for doing this," I say. 

"Anything for you, Anna," He rolled his eyes. 

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I was sitting in my dorm room, anxiously waiting for an update from Spot. He hadn't texted me yet, so I was growing nervous. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. 

"So?" I said, opening it. 

"I want a smoothie, let's go," He says. 

I roll my eyes, closing the door. "What did your mom say?" 

"She wasn't home, so I left them on the counter and I'll call her later," 

"I hope they're good," I say. "Someone else was making brownies at the same time as me--" 

Suddenly, a girl I'd never seen before cut me off. "You made some too? How were they?" 

"Uh," I glance at Spot. "I didn't try mine," 

"Ours sucked. I didn't feel any different afterwards. She probably forgot to even put the stuff in," 

Then the girl shrugged, and walked away. 

I slowly looked at Spot, who was giving me the same look. 

"Oh no," We both took off for the front of the school. 

"I can't leave, it's not the weekend--your mom is going to hate me. Get me expelled. Arrested! Oh, no, I'm on a scholarship here, Spot! I'm--" 

"Calm the fuck down, will you? I'll go home and fix this," He says, getting in a cab. 

"Spot, wait--" 

The cab drove off, leaving me in a panicked state. 

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Now, I was nervous. Beyond nervous. My palms even grew sweaty as each hour passed with no answer from Spot. 

At about 10 o' clock, he texted me. 

Spot: come over? 

I practically sprinted. 

"Spot, what happened!?" I burst out. 

"My mom knew they were pot brownies," 

"Oh no, she hates me, doesn't she?" 

"I told her they were mine," He says. 

I furrowed my eyebrows together. Why would he do that? 

"What?" 

"You seemed really nervous before I left about the whole time, so I told her they were for me and Jack and Race," He says. "I got a lecture about priorities, but I mean other than that snooz-a-thon, it was fine." 

"Well, uh, thanks," I scratch my neck. "For doing that," 

"Whatever," 

"That was a really gentleman thing to do, which is unusual for you," 

"Hey, I can be a gentleman." He scoffs. 

I raise an eyebrow. 

"Okay, don't believe me? I'll take you up on that." 

"Oh, yeah?" 

"Yeah. Friday night, I'll show you. If I'm not a perfect gentleman, you can throw whatever boring activity you want at me, and I'll go along with it." 

"And if I win?" I say. 

"I'll think of something." He grins. 

I pretend to think about it. "Fine, you're on." 

He holds out his hand to shake and seal the deal. 

"But this is so not a date," 

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well that was fun