Flawed Perception

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was dark, with nothing but what was under the porch light in view. The harsh light created dark shadows on Nick's face, but his smile still shined brightly. I had never felt anything like the way I felt with Nick in this very moment. It was something so new and strange that I really could not place it. 

"So, what do you want to do tonight, friend?" Nick asked me. Friend, he said. It was the second time in one night he called me his friend. I still didn't know how I felt about it. Since freshman year friends had been a foreign concept to me. I had Brittany, but that hardly counted. Was Nick my only true friend?  

I always thought friends were people who knew and understood you. They would fight with you or defend you. Friends would come when you needed them most, and stay away when they thought it best. By my definition, Nick Hadley and I were friends. 

"I don't know. What do you want to do?" I couldn't think. The realization that I had a friend in the world felt so odd to me. I couldn't wrap my head around it.  

"Why don't we eat some food and watch a movie or something," he replied. I nodded in agreement. Dinner and a movie, as friends, was not too intimidating. If I was careful and kept my distance physically and emotionally, I might have a decent night. Both of us stood up and walked into the apartment. He followed me into the kitchen as I began to rummage through the pantry and fridge for something to make.  

"I can make spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, or I can pan-fry some frickadellers. How does that sound?" I asked as I looked around to Nick, who had a confused, somewhat frightened look on his face. "What? Is something wrong?" 

"Do I want to know what a frickadeller is or why you can make it?" he inquired. My mother's parents were from Denmark so Danish food, language, and traditions were just a normal part of our lives. I often forgot that many people didn't know a lot about Danish foods. 

"Frickadellers are Danish meatballs. They're yummy. But they sound weird, right?" He nodded. I laughed as I took out the ingredients: ground beef, eggs, bread crumbs, onion and other things to add. I also grabbed a container of roedkaal from the fridge that my mother made earlier that day to bring to my grandmother's house. She left some for me along with a post-it note saying she hoped I felt better the next day. I felt a pang of guilt as I opened the lid and smelled the sweet and sour scent of the roedkaal. It was my favorite. As I looked down, salivating I heard a sigh of disgust from Nick's direction. 

"Okay, what is that? It looks like purple worms," he said, not trying to hide his apprehension. I looked up to find him staring at me and the red cabbage in shock, more so than when I mentioned the Danish meatballs. 

"It's called roedkaal, it's more Danish food. It's pickled red cabbage. It kind of tastes like candy, you'll like it I promise." The repugnance on his face didn't fade as I began to prepare the food. I could only laugh to myself every time he approached me while I cooked, but backed away when he saw the red cabbage.  

It reminded me when I was young. I was so scared of it, like most of the kids in my family were. We all called it purple worms as well. My dad wasn't Danish and was scared to try it the first time, but pretended it was candy to get me and Andy to eat it. It was memories like that which made me want to laugh and cry all at once. I felt conflicted in my desire to go back to that time, to a time when I didn't know, when I was still pure. The thoughts racing through my mind caused my facial expression to fall as I cooked. 

"Even though it sounds weird, it actually smells really good," Nick told me, tearing me from my thoughts. I grinned and nodded in reply. Thoughts of my past were an instant mood wrecker.