Pick Me Up

The only baby I need

"He is 28 years old. Twenty eight."

My rant hasn't stopped. In fact, it has been going on for about 4 hours of non-stop talking (Shouting) and frustratedly pulling my hair and stressing that he is immature for his age. The first 3 hours me and Lily were laying in the floor, both in emotion terminal, me because of the lies and betrayal of both Taylor and Phillip, and Lily because of the lies and betrayal of Taylor; saying she couldn't believe he would do this to her, obviously trying to shed light on the subject.

But now, with wooden spoon and bowl full of apples, cinnamon, floor, apple sauce, sugar, I take out all my frustrations on the poor batter. We decided to let out all steam on cooking. And I have to say, it's working. The ones solid apples now mushed into something that resembles baby food. The more we talk about it, the harder I stir.

"I have a counsellor if you want to see him." Lily suggests as she works on her part of the desert. The dough ball being rolled out by her strong muscles to later form the pastry for our delicious mini apple pie. A counsellor? If I did see one, I have a whole lot of other things I'd need to talk about; I wouldn't be out of their office for weeks.

"No I'm fine I don't need a counsellor." My pride testifies. Although there is nothing wrong with seeing one, I just feel silly if I went to see on about a relationship that I wasn't even in. Setting the bowl down I walk to the cupboard and grab a metal cupcake tray that still has burnt bits from previous cooking attempts stuck to it.

"Keep in mind I'm recommending this counsellor because he is like the hottest older man I have ever seen."

Although the reason to go is tempting, I think I'm going to take a break from good looking guys. I spray the tins with olive oil spray so the pastry won't stick, before setting that down and go back to my slaughtering of the apples.

"Old?" The thought brings back Taylor. "How old?"

She focuses on the pastry longer than before, she bits her lip, over the food or over hesitation. "Erm...twenty eight." It was over hesitation. We both look at each other exasperated. It's like we can't escape the situation no matter what we do.

Lily is quick to find a positive of the counsellor. "But he looks like christen grey." Positive for her, but not for me as the name brings back memories of Sims and things Taylor wanted to do to me. I'm silent as Lily cuts the dough and places it around the edges of the tin. I feel like every simple name or thing is ruined by memories of Taylor and his gorgeous fake personality and face.

"Well his names Anthony if you ever want to go." I nod my head to her, although I'm probably never going to go, no matter who bad I want to see a Christian grey look-a-like. Taking a scoop of the batter with my finger I eagerly chew on the mushy apples.

"Can you pass me the sugar?" I ask after deciding what it was missing. Lily whirls around with a flirty face, sugar in hand.

"Why? When all the sweetness you need is right here." I let out an 'ooh' and a sly wink in her direction. It's funny to think that we only attract each other with the pickup lines we through together, when the main reason we did it was to get Phillip.

The joke sets the tone for the next few minutes as we laugh and find humour in our lives which have mainly down falls. The mini apple pies are in the oven and we sit on the kitchen counter soaking up the silence – which is very unusual for us. I guess none of us have really feel as far as I did, and we are both wondering what the heck we are supposed to do.

"I just can't believe it." Breaking the silence I continue to talk about the whole thing that I say I am over, but really am not. Lily nods her head along, not quite believing it either. The egg timer for our pies ticking in the background, breaking complete silence through our conversation stillness.

"You know I didn't like Phillip." If I could confidently say anything about Lily it would be that she didn't like Phillip, it was practically the only thing she would talk about when I originally told her of my school girl crush. But even so, that wasn't what I was talking about and she knows it.

"I'm not talking about Phillip." My eyes glance at the timer, 2 minutes left. And then we can eat away our feelings instead of talking about them.

"Have you talked to Taylor?" Lily asks, hoping of the bench and flicking on the kettle. Cup of teas and apple pies are a must. Find me a more iconic duo!

Reaching into my pocket I absentmindedly find my phone, but I still don't take it out, knowing from the amount of times it has buzzed that there would be at least over twenty messages from Taylor. And I don't want to feel even more hurt.

"He messages me and calls but I don't want to talk to him." Mumbling, still sore about the subject.

The last two minutes we wait for the kettle to boil, and once it does we make our cuppas and pull out our delicious miniature apple pies. And for a reason unbeknownst to us we make a body out of two pies – like a snow man. And break some overflowed pastry off – making arms and legs – and with sultanas we make a face. And if it isn't the most beautifulist baby I have ever seen!

"Oh she's beautiful." I compliment, running my fingers over the crust rim of her face.

"She has your eyes." Lily complements, as we bring the rectangular plate up into our arms as if holding a real baby.

"What a beautiful food baby."

And what a weird why to solve problems.