Bittersweet Moments

21 | Honey-Apple Cake

21 | Honey-Apple Cake

Stunned and confused, the ginger taste was still on my mouth.

"Hello? Ollie, are you possessed again?" A hand waved in front of my face. I pulled myself out of my head and back to the Dales' kitchen, where I should be cooking snacks. Brennan was in front of me, a bemused expression on his face.

I rapidly shook my head to clear the fuzzy memories. My friend for years and years just kissed me, when I was a hundred percent certain either of us didn't think of each other that way. Trust me, I wouldn't complain if I got into a relationship with Lawrence and I knew in me that he was the perfect guy for every girl, but he wasn't the right guy for me.

"It's nothing, Brennan," I slid towards the counter, "Where are your parents? Have they arrived yet? Jackson?"

"I was telling you, wasn't I?" said Brennan, "Mom and Dad aren't home yet, but they'll be in a while. Jackson's away for school stuff. He texted that he might be late."

Jackson. For some odd reason, I felt like I had just wronged him with kissing Lawrence. But I gripped the edge of the counter tight, realizing the horrifying truth. "We're alone in this house?" I said in a hushed tone, looking off into the distance.

"Yes," Brennan replied smugly. I almost passed out, seeing that sly look on his face. There was no way I was babysitting this idiot!

He made his way over to the kitchen table, where I spotted a mini-keyboard for the first time. And by mini-keyboard, I meant a seemingly portable piano with lights and buttons. Looking at him warily, I decided to concentrate on making snacks for him instead, thinking he wouldn't bother me once I cooked food.

My hand had just touched the cupboard when Brennan stopped me, "You don't have to cook anymore, Ollie," said he, "There's honey-apple cake in the fridge. I took it home from work – and by that I'm saying that I stole it from work."

Suspicion crept in. He wasn't doing anything childish or up to anything. Why was he so calm? Nevertheless, I walked towards the fridge and slowly opened it.

Once I was sure there wasn't any exploding pie or anything similar hidden inside, I grabbed the box and shut the door quite strongly. "Why this sudden attitude? You're up to something, aren't you?" I turned towards Brennan, who was stretching his fingers over the piano.

He murmured notes distractedly. Then, he raised his gaze to meet mine, "Come on over here. We could share the cake."

He never shared the cake. And it didn't even feel heavy on my hand. I rested a hand on my hip, "You think I'm going to believe that? What are you going to do?"

One of the times he acted extra cheery towards me, I ended up covered in chocolate syrup, honey and feathers. We were in Reynold Records, and he somehow lured and Montana and I into a 'harmless' prank. Actually, I was the original target, but Montana got mixed into the trouble. Brennan got the worst from her.

Brennan smiled coyly and raised the piano. I knew then what he was planning to do. My eyes widened a fraction and I raised the box of cake to my chest, "No. No. Absolutely not! You're not going to make me."

"Oh yeah? If you don't, I'm going to thrash around the house. Take your pick," he threatened.

Prick! He couldn't do that!

I heard the screeching of a chair. Brennan pulled a seat next to his and patted the empty space on it. Reluctantly, I took careful steps towards the kitchen table, after grabbing two forks and a spoon. On the table, I opened the box and took a piece of icing – honey-apple, delicious.