The Art Of You And I

Chapter twelve: Why did we do this?

I opened the door once he rung the doorbell for the last 15 minutes. He wore the biggest grin with an armful of cookies stashed in sky blue plastic bags.

I couldn't help but smile down at the items in his arms. "Is this a coincidence or should I be worried that you somehow knew sky blue was my favorite color?"

He rolled his eyes as he stepped inside and closed the door with his back. "Anyone who has the intelligence of a squirrel would know your favorite color. Most of your clothes are blue!"

I shrugged as I took some from his arm and walked over to the kitchen. "It looked pretty."

We both set the cookie bags down on the kitchen table and took out the items from the bag.

I shook my head as I rummaged through them. "How many did you make?"

"Buy." He corrected me. "About 43 to be exact."

"Why 43? Is there a specific reason?"

He shrugged. "Thought it was your favorite number."

"It's not."

"Oh, well."

He took me by the shoulders and I tried my hardest not to flinch as the memory of the parking lot briefly flashed through my mind. But his move was soft as he sat me down on the stool.

"Now, you relax here while I make you some hot chocolate milk for you to drink while you eat your cookies."

I sighed and plopped my elbow on the table, my hand supporting my chin.

I watched him cheerfully get to work as he whistled a tune which I vaguely remember someone singing it. He took out the milk from the fridge, along with the cocoa from the upper left cabinet.

Where was his pain? His despair, his grief? How does he hide it? He spends his days alone in his house, with no one for him to call. I vaguely remember Jessica telling me how he stopped hanging out with his other friends in the football team. It was only us four. How lonely.

He turned around dramatically with a smirk on his face. He was holding a steaming cup of brown beverage. He put it down in front of me.

"There." He huffed, and sat down across from me. "Chocolate de Alexander. The first of many."

I took a sip and tried my hardest not cough. "More like the first of fuck no." This absolutely does not taste like chocolate at all.

He furrowed his eyebrows and faintly pouted subconsciously. "What?" He said in the most puzzled voice I've ever heard.

I shook my head as I grimaced down at my drink. "Alexander, this tastes awful."

He shrugged and folded his hands at the table and remained quiet. I could visibly see how genuine his disappointment was. With sudden realization, Alexander was actually upset that I didn't like his chocolate milk.

I looked at him in amusement. So he really thought he made good chocolate milk. I looked down and paused. I found out that I didn't like it when he was upset. It felt wrong for a bubbly and cheerful person like him to be filled with such negative energy. With determination, I slowly took the chocolate milk and gulped a mouthful.

I really could not decipher the taste of this mysterious beverage. What the hell did he put in it? This tastes very odd. I drank some more. The more I drank, the more I got used to the taste. Hmm, it's not really that bad after a couple of sips. Because the taste is so awful, your tongue goes numb and you can't even taste anything at all.

Once I put my cup down I looked up at Alexander to find him looking at me with a strange expression wearing a huge grin. "Why'd you drink the whole thing?"