Basketcase

Pancakes

Chapter Nine

"Liam," Harry called, while fastening his clinged grip around my linked arm.

"Right here," he responded.

The two boys clinged to my side backed away, allowing Liam to walk through. His hands casually dug into his front pockets, then his back and front again, frantically feeling his chest pocket and his pants once more.

"Liam?" Niall questioned vividly.

"Where's Lou?" he asked firmly, staring intently and strictly.

The echoing metal elevator door opened, and the boys fully shot their attention down the hall.

"Zayn!" Liam called. Harry and Niall released their attachments following after Liam as he walked towards the elevator entrances. "Lou's with you, isn't he?"

The rather tanned boy shook his head, his hair stiffly turning with each shake. His eyes suddenly widen,

"No," he confirmed. Liam walked into the elevator, "You don't think..." he began.

 Liam nodded, "yes," he said.

"Oh shit," Zayn responded, joining him in the elevator. The other two boys followed, just as the doors closed.

A yawn came over me, stretching my jaw widely. The ding of the elevator alarmed me slightly of the opening doors, "Ryan!" a voice called and I turned towards it.

I stared blandly at the familiar figure standing before me, rolling my head back to view his facial figures. "Lou," I stated.

"Yes," he responded proudly, flashing his smile widely as he approached.

"The boys just left," I informed, slumping back against the wall.

"I know," he said, "I waited, listening in the other elevator." I nodded consciously. He smiled softly, lifting his arm over to my far shoulder, "C'mon lets go make some flapjacks," he insisted, guiding me forward to the door. He slipped out a key card from his inner sleeve and tucked it in the scan, and pulled it out swiftly as the light flashed red to green. Leading us in, he confirmed the closing of the door behind us, slipping his hand from my shoulder and walked confidently into the kitchen. I followed to the island, standing, still and effortless watching in the side lines. Pulling out various ingredients and placed them on the table; flour, eggs, baking powder, sugar, a bushel of carrots, baking soda, salt, pepper, butter, oil and milk. He seems to know what he's doing. An aching pain throbbing in my shins, I glanced to the stools beside me and dragged one out, hopping on to the high lift chair.

Lou opened a far drawer to his left, near the industrial dishwasher, unveiling various measuring units and other utensils on the counter as he shut it and brought them over to the island tile; lined up with the chosen ingredients. A cupped grating bowl and the carrots were pushed forwards towards me, I watched them as he paused and glanced upwards. "Here,"-He picked up a newly, un-rusted peeler and handed it over in a gentle fashion. My mind processed his offering.-"you can peel and shred the carrots," he instructed, continuing to hold out the peeling, swiftly switching from holding the handle to a toss and the curved blade in the grasp of his finger tips and thumb. I stared at the abnormally coloured cooking utensil, the oddly chosen green; spiking a peak of curiosity; and clasped onto the handle. He'd released the blade, allowing myself to observe it and pick a carrot out. The cool temperature of the long vegetable in my palm and the swift motion of the siding blade as it peal it, and moved on until the bag was finished and I moved onto the grading.

I placed the blade carefully away from my work space and picked up a bare carrot, placing it against the multiple sheet of blades. "Ryan?" an eluded voice broke me from my unconscious trance. I shifted my head swiftly towards the noise, staring un-intently. Lou's eyes almost sought out confusion and fear. "You didn't need to peel all of them," he said, I glanced towards the twelve, freshly peeled neon orange radiance gleaming off each and every carrot sparkling to perfection and looked back. "We probably only need one," he continued, "depending on if you even want any."

I shifted my gaze again, from him to the carrot and back, concealing my speechlessness, then continued the process of shredding. Grading a total of one and a half carrots, leaving the rest to lay bare on the table as I bit the half of the numbed and graded carrot. Lou took the full grading cupped bowl, and shook it before removing the bladed lid. The inside of the blade, clean of orange, was thrown in the sink and the bowl full of carrot was dumped into a cream coloured batter he concocted in the time I'd be shredding, stirring it up with an over sized spoon while he tossed the carrot grime bowl into the sink as well. "Go put a pan on the stove," he instructed, while stirring.

I placed the carrot numb on the island counter and hopped down from the stool, rounding the island. I open the first bottom cupboard near the fridge, finding the pans almost instantaneously as its long handle stuck out visibly and lifted one to the stove top; the largest one. I stood beside it and move away as Lou brought over the bowl of creamy peach pancake batter and lowered it on the counter, while going back for the butter on the island and bringing it to the counter space. Does he really know what he's doing?

He switched the knob of the front burner, a spark clicking before the flame caught and lit the rim of the flat circular top. Lumping waves flared upwards and touched the blackness of the bottom, a radiant heat burning and a strong warmth raising. "Lou-" I began, as his fingers grasp the prism of butter, jabbing a knife through the foil wrapper, quickly pealing the cut chunk in his palm. "I don't-" I continued, but it had already left his grasp. I stepped back cautiously, just as the salted lard hit the surface, instantly burning to black charcoal within the second.

"Bloody hell!" he cried, covering his face and ducking away from the pan.

The raising smoke emerged quickly as the butter disappeared. I backed away into the sink, watching the smoke become and overpowerment to the air. A wet absorption soaked into the fresh of my palm as I placed it farther inwards, my eyes traced the rim of the stainless steal leading towards a kitchen sink hose. I reached over the sink and grabbed it, pulling tube to its limit before aiming towards the pan. My eyes unintentionally shut towards the potential danger of the situation, physically wincing as the sizzle sparked through me as I put pressure on the trigger.

A mild cry yelped and I let go of the hose, jumping as it hit the floor. My sights found the hose lying on the tile, a small puddle inching towards it and I found a rather wet male slumply hunched over, un-satisfaction written clearly towards his features. "Nice aim," he mumbled. My lips parted as I nodded. He bent over and picked up the hose, walking past me briefly as he returned the hose to its base. He returned, stopping from behind in observation. "Well, this was a bloody catastrophe," he acknowledged, a smile emerging onto his lips, laughing almost, "And to think women as suppose to be better in the kitchen." I nodded in agreement, slowing my pace as I realized his stare lurking on me.

The side door opened and the four other boys bursted through, the voices caught up in strong violent coughs as the entered the contaminated room. Liam broke away from the group lowering himself to a fifty degree angle beneath the visible grey. "What happen?" he broke, reducing his breaths as he finished. "Ryan did it!" Lou spoke, jabbing his finger into my right shoulder.

I paused conditionally shaking my head into a rapid phase, "No," I responded firmly, glaring towards Lou.

"What?" Liam pressed further.

"We made pancakes," Lou informed him.

"He wanted to make pancakes," I defended, pointing to the partly soaked boy.

"I wanted to make carrot pancakes," Lou supplied.

A piercing high pitched beeping screeched to a great extent and a rush of water showered from above. "You know, I don't really care at this point," Liam stated limply, "But we need to get out of here!" he said and grabbed my drizzled hand, directing me towards the door, another hand lightly held my right as we found our way out. The other boys, had the same idea and found their way out from where they came and we met them in the hall. I managed to inhale a deep breath of black smoke before the escape, a cast of hyperventilation plunging my system into rapid coughing streaks. I tighten my throat, calming the out burst, as began my focus back to the boys, their acknowledgement of my tantrum seemed mild as they all seemed to have their own mild fits of coughing before everyone became aware and steady of one another and their surroundings.

"Hey Ryan," I shifted my head over to the speaking voice, Liam, "Could I use the phone back in you room to call downstairs?" he asked. I inhaled and exhaled the fresh un-intoxicated air, and nodded. "Alright," he said, "lets go."