Not What We Expected

Chapter 10: Some Bad Stuff and Some Good Stuff

A/N: Okay so sorry for the late upload. I was actually going to upload this 2 days ago but my computer crashed and I lost everything I had saved on that so I had to rewrite the chapter. I hope the chapter makes up for the late upload.

------

Chapter 10 Some Bad Stuff and Some Good Stuff:

Our little interaction ended with us walking our separate ways. I walked upstairs to the kitchen not caring where Shane went. I had to say the kitchen was nice but too bad I didn’t know how to cook. I see Shane walk over to the fridge totally ignoring me. I slam a pot getting his attention.

“My new kitchen in my new house! I wasted so much time this morning; I’ll just whip up some breakfast.”

“Elena! What are you doing here?”

“Shane, I don’t care if you take it offensively, but you asked me a very stupid question. Tell me, what do people do in their own kitchens? They make food, and guests shouldn’t ask members of the house about their own business, right?” Shane starts walking towards me making me walk backwards away from him.

“Elena! The 2 million dollar deal of this house is in my mom’s name, and you’re calling me a guest?” I end up sitting half on the counter.

“Get down, you’ll break it!” he says causing me to drop down from it.

“2 million dollars?! Really? It’s that expensive? That’s why you’re always angry and trying to get me to leave!”

“Elena-,”

“I mean, my friend’s granddad bought her a house that was worth 1 million dollars!”

“Wait, you were making food, so why don’t you do that?” Shane says walking over to the dining table and sitting down.

Like I said before I don’t know how to cook so I guess toast it is. I start looking around for bread but don’t find any.

“Did you hide or steal the bread?”

“No…” Shane said getting half up but sat back down and started smiling. He’s got something going on in the disgusting mind of his.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing. You’re making toast, right? Make sure it’s toasted right.”

“I don’t need your permission or help.” I start looking around again trying to find something I could eat. I open the cabinet and see a box.

“What’s this? What do you do with it?” I said thinking out loud.

“It’s your kitchen, you should know. I’m the guest.” I look down and see that I was holding Aunt Jemima pancake mix. Dad use to make his special pancakes every Saturday morning. He would call them Daddy John special blueberry pancakes. Yeah not the best name but the pancakes made up for the name.

“I don’t know how to make pancakes.” Not knowing I said it out loud till I heard Shane talk.

“I’m the guest, but I’ll help out. Give it,” he said walking over and taking the pancake mix from my hands.

“I don’t want pancakes. I’d rather just starve.”

“I like pancakes, and that’s what I’ll eat,” he says as I walk over to the dining table and take a seat.

Why will I starve you ask? I don’t even know they’re just pancakes. I can’t even eat pancakes without remembering my parents. But it’s Saturday morning and the only pancakes I’m eating are Daddy John pancakes which I can’t have anymore. I thought I moved on from crying, but wherever I go or whatever I do I’m reminded of them. What do I do?