She's Kind of a Disaster

1- I Hate Shrimp

I hate shrimp. They're small, slimy, and they taste like a whale's butthole. But shrimp had always been his favorite meal so I learned how to cook them perfectly and I've learned to eat the little parasites of the ocean without gagging on the taste. I had learned long ago that if I drown them in enough garlic sauce, I can almost pretend like I'm eating chicken.

"This is delicious, as always," He tells me with a smile on his face as he scarfs down the tiny pale creatures after he's ripped off their tail things. "I don't know how you do it, Wren."

I smile at my boyfriend because he looks so happy and when he's happy, so am I. That's why I suffer through my absolute hatred of shrimp for him and why I've spent all night orchestrating this meal for him. Well, also because of my love for cooking, but it's mostly for him. My parents are out of the house, my brother is at a friend's house, we have the place to ourselves and so I've decided to make the night special. He's got his shrimp, I made dessert, and he told his parents that he isn't coming home tonight. I'm wearing my sexiest dress and I've done my makeup.

I've dimmed the lights in the dining room and lit candles to make the dining room look as romantic as possible. Clayton is always so distracted by other things going on in life that I like to have special nights like these where he isn't thinking about anything else. We're both twenty, about to start our third year of college, and this is our last week at home. We're both stressed about the move back to campus; there's still so much to do before the move.

We go to the same school but it's two and a half hours away from our hometown so the packing and saying goodbye to our families is a lot. But not tonight, because it's just us and it's a night for both of us to unwind.

"I only slaved over the stove all day," I say jokingly and I nibble on one of the shrimp that are on my plate. Only a third of the amount that I'd put on Clayton's plate. "I'm glad that you like it, though. I tried a new recipe this time."

"Really?" He wonders and then takes another bite of the shrimp as if attempting to find the change from the other times that I'd made this dish for us.

"I used white wine with it this time," I say to him. I've always wanted to try it with the wine but being younger than 21 and my parents pretty strict, it's nearly impossible to get my hands on alcohol. My friend's mom is way cooler than mine though, and she bought some for me. "You can't even notice the difference though."

"I can a little bit," He defends and I laugh. He glances up at me, looking at me with his dark brown eyes, and I smile at him. He's so beautiful. His soft eyes are almost as dark as his hair that's always messy and long, moving around above his head in a chaotic mess. The stubble that covers the bottom half of his face makes his white smile look even sexier than usual. I love him, my boyfriend of three years, even though he makes me eat shrimp.

Granted, I don't think that he's ever noticed that I hate it because he gets so excited when I make it that he's only focused on his own plate.

"It's delicious," He says again.

"Don't eat too much," I warn him as I get up from the table. I'm wearing heels even though we didn't go anywhere; I just wanted to look fancy tonight and wearing heels makes my legs look longer. "I made dessert."

"Of course you did," He says with a small chuckle. I grab the pie that I'd made earlier from the oven where it's been stored to keep it a surprise and I carry it over to the table.

"S'mores pie," I announce. "I've never made it before so you have to be brutally honest."

"It looks amazing," Clayton assures me. "I wish that I could shrink down into a tiny person and then jump into this pie and live in it."