Sh, it's a secret!

Chapter 4

"I'm Damian."

The night before Christmas Eve Johnny and I made a bet on whether his name was actually Drew or not. I lost. Damn.

"NICE TO MEET YOU," shoot, I yelled again. I tend to speak loudly when I'm nervous, which would make me a liability in this situation. And almost every other situation. I'm a liability even when I'm not nervous.

"So," he said rocking impatiently on his heels and looking around the classroom, "When can you teach me?"

He actually wanted to learn. I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. I had thought about it a lot last night. I could try to sneak him into the bakery after hours. I couldn't teach him at home because I didn't have a fancy mixer or any of the equipment that the bakery had. The easiest way would be to ask him to buy the ingredients and for us to meet at a third location.

Despite the risk, I was having fun. I liked the excitement of the deal and operating in secret, even though we were just going to be making cookies. It made me feel like James Bond.....to some extent.

"Well," I said, trying not to smile, "I'm free on Sundays and any time after 7." I leaned in as if I was about to say something important. He leaned in with anticipation, "When making macaroons, you need to be very precise, so," he was hanging on my every word. It was taking everything in me to not smile, "I'll need you to buy the ingredients." The interest and anticipation left his face at once. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lololol.

Now I was anxious. If he didn't agree, I didn't know what might happen. Maybe I pushed it a little.

"Fine," he said, "We can use my kitchen."

"That won't work," I said, "You need special equipment to make macaroons. We can use the kitchen in the bakery, but only after 7."

"Great," he said, "So can I meet you there tomorrow orrrrr,"

"That's fine. By the way," I had done a lot of thinking last night, "who are you making these for."

"No one," he said firmly. He was lying though. He face turned bright red, and he wasn't making eye contact. I, of course, already had a hypothesis as to why he wanted to make these macaroons. And he had just proven me right. I'm so smart.

"They're for your crush, right," I said grinning and leaning on one elbow. I hoped I wasn't pushing it but I probably was.

"N-N-No!"

"You stuttered," I pointed at him. Case closed. He's making these for someone he liked, but who?

"I make a great detective," I thought feeling proud of myself. I leaned back in my chair. Easy-peezy -macaroon-squeezy.

During English, we glanced at each other again, but this time we squinted at each other and gave each other discreet, dirty looks, or rather, I gave dirty looks and he looked uneasy. I don't think Damian likes me. And as far as Johnny needs to know, his name is Drew.

Hello there. :)

Have you ever lost a bet? If I had a dime for every bet I lost I'd have three dimes. Have you ever made macaroons? I'm talking about the fancy French macarons. Those things are gooooood.