She knew, the day
he broke her heart,
that love was either
the greatest joke
the world has ever
told us,
or
the greatest and
most felt truth.
- Christopher Poindexter
I sort through the bags of groceries from Aldi. Semi-sweet chocolate morsels? Check. Confectioner's sugar? Check. Flour, sugar, eggs? Check, check, check. It's Friday night, and luck is finally in my favor. Both Hina and Chloe are away for the night, so Josh and I are going to attempt my mom's famous chocolate chip cookies. I didn't tell either of my roommates, mostly because I was afraid they'd make me put the fire department on speed dial or forbid me from baking for fear of burning down the house.
After the week that I've had, I need to think about anything besides work. I got caught up in fear and panic after the conversation with Mr. Fitzpatrick, and I can't live like that, like my chest is compressed and I can't draw in a full breath. So I'm determined to keep working hard and keep living my life and I'll just hope for the best. Maybe I should be relieved it's out of my control.
A knock sounds on the door and I yell, "Come in!"
Josh enters the kitchen and sets a half gallon of vanilla bean ice cream on the counter. "You can't have chocolate chip cookies without ice cream."
I turn around and Josh pulls me into his arms, kissing me soundly. There's an energy that only sparks between the two of us, something kinetic that passes between us.
"Hey," he says, smiling against my mouth as he kisses me.
"Hey," I answer.
"Where's the apron?"
"Why, you want to wear it?" I tease.
Josh laughs. "I'm pretty sure you look cuter in it."
"No aprons," I say. "Let's bake."
"Are you sure we're not going to burn your apartment down? I'm pretty sure Chloe already has it out for me, so destroying her apartment isn't going to help my case."
"Chloe can screw off," I growl, digging in the cabinet under the counter for a mixing bowl.
She may have apologized, but I still don't want to listen to her tell me I need to go to the doctor. After my meltdown Monday night, I haven't had that pounding in my head and compression in my chest, so maybe it'll go away if I just ignore it.
"What happened with Chloe?" Josh asks.
"After the cookies," I promise him.
It takes us an entire hour and two bad batches to finally bake anything that even resembles a chocolate chip cookie. My mother would be so ashamed. First of all, Josh didn't know the difference between confectioner's sugar and regular sugar. Then I mixed up the baking powder and baking soda. Then we both forgot to add the vanilla. I never would have believed that one little drop of liquid could make such a big difference. Finally, we bake one tray full of cookies that are edible if smothered in a huge scoop of ice cream, and the kitchen hasn't burnt down. I'd call that a success.
I climb onto the couch, bowl of ice cream and sad cookie in hand, and sit cross-legged facing Josh.
"So are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asks. "You've been kind of distant all week."
I grin sheepishly. "I was hoping you didn't notice."
"I can't help but notice you, Rach." Josh's eyes bore into me and I feel that hot flutter in the pit of my stomach that tells me I'm falling. I'm falling hard, and I'm falling fast.
YOU ARE READING
The Definition of Fate
أدب نسائي"I want you and you want me. Nothing else matters." Four years ago, Rachel Evans was destroyed by the only boy she ever loved. Ever since then, she has tried to rebuild her life, but when her safety net--her boyfriend, job, friends, and family--di...
