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Chapter 13: Forgiveness Cake

When Oliver asks me how school was on the bus ride home, I say it was fine. I'm more distracted by the fact that Edge is on the opposite end of the bus and sitting all alone. Without me. And possibly hating me.

When I get home, I put some lasagna in the oven while I do my homework at the kitchen table. I do all of my easier subjects, saving math and science for last. I fake my way through the math yet again, but it doesn't even bother me anymore. I do the physics homework with Violet's notes guiding me along. I mentally thank her, hoping that I remembered to do so verbally.

The doorbell rings, and I jump in my seat. I get up and answer the door, already knowing who is probably waiting on the other side, internally debating on whether or not that's a good thing, and rapidly playing back all of the scenarios I have previously planned out during the course of my day.

It's Edge.

He's holding a cake covered in white frosting. In black frosting and messy writing are the words "I'm sorry I tried to kill you". I look from the cake back to him.

"What's this?"

"It's a cake," Edge replies almost timidly. This is the most unsure of himself that I have ever seen Edge act. It's sad to observe, but it's also refreshing in some strange way.

"I can see that." I'm smiling. Edge stares down at his handiwork.

"Penny and Nate helped me make it."

I laugh softly, remembering my conversation about cake with Nate and Violet at lunch.

"It's a very nice cake."

"I figured that even if you didn't forgive me...hey, at least you'd have this cake," Edge sounds so nervous, I can't help but laugh. I take the cake from him, and he looks up at me. For the first time, I am struck by his cloudy, gray eyes that look almost like some sort of dark blue shade.

I turn and begin to walk into the kitchen, but stop when I realize Edge isn't following me. I turn my head back to him.

"You coming?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him. I put the cake on the counter.

"What's that smell?" Edge asks. Shit. The lasagna.

"Holy crap! Edge, open the windows!"

"No, I got it. You open the door," Edge directs. I rush to the door and fling it open as Edge rushes by with a smoking dish of burnt lasagna, dropping it on the cement outside. Leaving the door open, we rush to get towels as the smoke detector starts going off. I wave the towels to make it stop as Edge grabs a chair and twists to smoke detector off of the ceiling. The beeping stops. Our ears begin to recover. We sigh at the same time. Edge slams the detector on the kitchen table, and smiles at me. I smile back.

"It's nice to have you back," I admit. Edge raises an eyebrow. "Just try to get that whole trying to kill me thing under control, okay?"

"Of course," Edge nods.

There's an awkward pause. Edge stares at me. Uncomfortable with that amount of intense eye contact, I speak out.

"Let's eat that cake!"

+++++

Edge and I eat cake for dinner on the living room on the couch. There's a kind of unspoken agreement to not talk about yesterday. And I decide not to tell him about what Maddy did to me this morning.

We also decide to just split the cake in half. I trace a line in the frosting down the middle, and we set it on the couch between us, eating it straight out of the pan.