From The Other Side

35. you make things less scary

THIRTY FIVE
you make things less scary

Wednesday, July 4th

"No, Isaiah, you're doing it wrong."

          Isaiah frowned and backed up, batter on his hands as Morgan shuffled around the counter to take control. She was concentrated on making pancakes, of all things, at four in the afternoon—a strange request from their friend group. It'd mostly been Ashton begging for some, so everyone else had ended up reluctantly agreeing.

            "How am I doing it wrong?" Isaiah complained, watching the girl whisk the batter. "I did exactly what the box said to do."

"The box is stupid," she replied, scraping the tool along the sides of the bowl to get rid of the extra powder. "Fluffy pancakes are the best pancakes. So you gotta add more of this—" She picked up the bag of pancake mix and poured a little bit into the bowl. "—and less water."

              Isaiah frowned. "But they'll taste the same in the end."

               Morgan looked up and pointed the whisk at him, some batter splattering against the countertop. "Watch your mouth," she said threateningly, then set the tool down and quickly cleaned up the small mess she had made. Isaiah cracked a grin.

"Can I make shapes?" Isaiah asked when she was about to pour the mix on a pan. She hesitated, but nodded, sliding the bowl over to him. "Yes. Thank you." He started off with a regular pancake to make her feel better, then immediately went on to attempt making a star.

Morgan giggled. "The arms are uneven," she teased.

"It's not as easy as Instagram makes it seem," he grumbled in response, brows furrowed as he concentrated. "The star is for Ashton. He won't care what it looks like as long as it's edible."

                Morgan laughed and sat down at the table, popping in one earbud as she flipped her phone on its side and started watching something. The room was quiet, save for the laughter and talking in the living room from the other four. Isaiah had soon finished several other differently shaped pancakes, and he was quite proud of himself for not completely fucking up.

                He was in the middle of creating a heart for August when two hands jabbed into his sides, and he jumped in shock, letting out a curse as the batter created a fat line through the heart. He set the bowl down and spun around, shoving at August's chest. The blond was laughing so hard he couldn't even catch Isaiah's fists.

                "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, grinning, weakly blocking Isaiah from hitting him. "Izzy, you made the funniest fucking sound, oh my—ow! You have bony hands," August said with a groan, laughter dying down instantly. He grabbed Isaiah's wrists and held him in place. "Your knuckles dug into my arm, the soft part, and that hurt. Jesus Christ."

Isaiah scowled. "I was almost done, and it was looking good, and you ruined it. Asshole."

August pouted, but the smile he was holding back made it look weird. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, hesitantly letting go of his wrists and moving his grasp to his waist. "I'll help you make another. I swear."

                    Isaiah placed his hands over August's. "You can't do that when you're touching me," he muttered, trying his hardest not to forgive him and kiss the air out of his lungs like he wanted to everytime he saw him. "Do you really want to help or are you just trying to get something out of me?"