3 am; joji miller

0.3

I did as I was told, and made whatever I wanted too. I decided to make my personal favorite for him.
  
     "Can I ask, what the hell is walnut and red pepper pesto pasta?" George asked taking a swig from the water bottle that I had given him.

     "Amazing," I said in a slight sarcastic tone as I stirred the noodles that were on the stove. "You're just gonna have to trust me on this, it's my favorite."

     He shrugged and rose his eyebrows. After awhile, I finally finished up and put the finishing touches on it. I set the bowl in front of George, who turned his phone off and pocketed it.

     "Damn idiots," he said before grabbing the fork that I had also set down.

     "Hmm?" I asked and knit my eyebrows together in confusion.

     "Oh not you, my friends are trying to get me to do a video. I'm just not feeling it," he said. He stuck the fork in the bowl and twirled it around before taking a bite. I waited, slightly impatient, for his response.

     He swallowed and looked up at me. He took a second before finally responding. "Well, being the professional food critic that I am, I can tell you that you will be top of your class at this culinary school you say you will be attending," he said in a British accent that was super inaccurate.

     Just like a little kid, I jumped up and clapped my hands together. "Yes! That's all I needed. Back home, nobody ever thought that I'd be able to do it. But I told them I'd get into this school," I said. I leaned back and sat on top of the counter next to the stove, across from George, who was sitting at the island.

     "Where is home?" He asked, taking another bite of the dish I had prepared for him. I grabbed myself a bowl and began to dip some of it for myself.

     "New Orleans, Louisiana. I'm not gonna lie, I miss it a lot. I mean, I'm gonna miss Mardi Gras, and that's gonna suck," I said with a small pouty face.

     "You're from Louisiana? That's cool," he said and looked at me in interest.

     "Born and raised. But not always in New Orleans. I grew up closer to the bayou. You know, alligator hunting, any kind of hunting. Just something to get for dinner," I said and finally took a bite and congratulated myself on the inside.

     "Alligator hunting? You're one tough bastard then," he said and huffed a small laugh.

     "Yeah, it was me, my dad, and my mom. But she left. And it was just the two of us. My dad, he's everything to me. He was the only thing holding me back from coming here. God knows I miss him," I said emotionally.

     "Is he...still here?" George asked with a slight concerned tone to his voice.

     "Yes," I said with a small smile, "but he's sick. We had to go to a hospital in New Orleans, and we've been there for the past two years. I moved in with my mom there, and it sucked. She got remarried and her husband is a cunt. And I guess everything got to me, and I started acting depressed and blah blah blah," I said. I felt like I had been rambling on. Like I was boring him, but he continued to stare at me in interest.

     "Come on, you can't stop there," he said and interlocked his hand and placed them under his chin.

     "And they took me to see a doctor, and he suggested that I get out of the city. Away from everything. I refused to leave my dad. And maybe I should've listened," I said. I began to get teary eyed thinking about it. "One night, my mom was pissed at me and her husband wouldn't quit yelling at me. He said that he hoped my dad did die. I went to my room, and I tried to..." I cut myself off. I reached for the scars on my wrists and held my arms close to me. I wasn't paying any attention to George, until I felt his arms wrap around me.

     I did the same back. It felt comforting having him around. "I'm glad you didn't. Who else would I have saved," he said, trying to lighten the mood. He pulled back and I smiled at him. A tear began to fall from my eye. He reached up and used his thumb to wipe it away.

     "After I recovered, I moved here. I was done with everything. I just miss my dad," I said and hopped off of the counter. Our bowls were both empty now. I put them in the sink. I would wash them later.

     "Alright, enough about me. What's this video that your friends are talking about?" I asked and turned around to face him.

     "They want to have a paintball war, me as Pink Guy, Ian as the 'Green Cunt', and Max as Maxine," he said and rolled his eyes.

     "That sounds fucking awesome. I can't remember the last time I played paintball," I said and laughed, "but I've got a job to find."

     "Well, the only setback is, we don't have anyone to film for us. Could you?" He asked and smiled hopefully. "I'll help you find a job afterwards. I promise."

     I laughed at him. "Okay, fine. When are y'all planning on doing it?" I asked and crossed my arms. He pulled his phone out and decided to FaceTime someone. He held the camera up so both of us were in the frame.

     The name at the top was 'edups,' and I couldn't help but laugh. "When he answers, please act like a deranged fan girl. It'll be hilarious," George pleaded.

     "Ugh, fine," I agreed. I took a minute but Ian finally picked up. I looked at George and he gave me and encouraging smile.

     "Oh my gosh! Idubbbz! No way! Oh my!" I squealed. George laughed at me. I pushed his shoulder and grabbed his phone. "I'm so sorry, he told me too. I'm a fan, but not like that. Hi I'm Rose, and I guess I'm gonna be the girl filming for you," I said.

     Ian looked slightly confused at first, but let out a couple of chuckles. George was still behind me, laughing loudly. "Is he alright?" Ian asked. I just shook my head.

     "Dude, maybe you should be an actress instead," George said, finally catching his breath. He took his phone back from my hands. Him and Ian talked about plans as I cleaned up the kitchen. I couldn't help but overhear something. "So she's the chick you saved? She's pretty cute. You get 'em Joji," Ian said. I scoffed a little bit, and I guess George heard me.

     "Dumbass, she's in the same room," George said. Ian only said I know. I laughed a little. I finished up and turned around and leaned against the counter, looking at George.

     He looked at me and mocked Ian, without him noticing. I shook my head and laughed. Finally, they hung up and he looked at me. "Okay, so I'll pick you up tomorrow about 9:30, okay?" He said standing up. I nodded, as if I had a choice.

     "I'll see you here then. Do you want a ride home?" I asked him as he made his way to the door. He shook his head.

     "No, I'll call and Uber. But thanks for everything. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He said. He was standing in the door frame of my apartment. I held the door open for him. I smiled and nodded.

     "Can't wait," I said sarcastically and pushed him out the door.

     "Hey now, that's a little bit abusive, don't you think?" He said as he made his way towards the stairs.

     "No, you'll be okay. You're pretty tough, aren't you, Joji," I said, putting emphasis on the nickname he'd been given.

     "Hey, only my friends get to call me Joji," he said jokingly.

     "What an I then? Just the girl you follow around? The chick that cooks you amazing food?"

     "Be whatever you want, Rose. If you wanna be my friend, I should formally apologize now."

     I laughed at him and told him goodbye. His said bye as well and he finally made his way down the steps, pulling out a cigarette on the way.

     I shut the door and walked into my kitchen. It was 7:30. Damn, we'd been talking for awhile, but it didn't seem that long. Joji Miller.

     "Interesting."