Before You Go

chapter eleven

Eliza

I think the world favours Leon. There's just something about his smartassery and unavoidable charm that everyone seems to adore. The fact that he is best buds with Kit is just freaking perfect. Now that the news about them attending university together has settled, the shock has worn off and I'm pissed. How is it possible that Leon can infiltrate every corner of my goddamned life?

I release a hefty breath as I slice fingerling potatoes. Leon, James, Kit, and Scott are in the other room and are discussing some of the best hiking trails in Whistler while enjoying cold beers and salted peanuts. Last night, after James and I got back from the grocery store, I saw Tenille and Serena for a couple of brief seconds. We exchanged some words about the soaps that were made. Since then, I haven't seen them; I spent all day packaging up the bars of soap.

Laughter erupts from the living room and I have to grit my teeth as I chop through another potato with a little too much force. I have nothing against James and his friends hanging out, but I was looking forward to a nice quiet dinner with my friends. Not a testosterone-filled night of drinking and acting like immature teenagers. It seems as though the connection between Leon and Kit has amped things up a little.

When I'm finished slicing the fingerling potatoes, I scrape them off of the cutting board and into a cast-iron skittle with lots of butter, salt, pepper, fresh thyme, and garlic. I then stick that in the oven to let it bake. The bone-in chicken breasts are already cooking and the salad is ready, waiting in the fridge.

Although I don't like being the only on working in the kitchen, it does give me a peace of mind. Being away from Leon's prying eyes is something I'm enjoying at the moment. After his mind games down by the creek, the last thing I want to do is think about him. But it's been hard. I'm curious to know why he's here and what exactly he wants – I still can't seem to figure it out. One thing I'm sure of, though, is that he wants to talk to me. Every time he looks at me, I can see years of unsaid words in his alluring eyes. I just don't know if I'm ready to hear any of it.

Leon always has reasons for doing what he does. Although he lied to me and never picked up his phone for two months when I kept trying to call him, there's a part of me that believes there's a valid reason behind it all. What really confuses me, though, is why I never heard from him for two whole years. He could have called me and at least told me he was okay. He could have explained what the hell happened. But he never said a word to me. Until now.

When I've finished cleaning the dishes, I decide I'm going to bake some cookies. I've never been a fan of sweets – unless we're talking about fudge and kettle corn – but baking will give me a reason to avoid any interactions with Leon and the rest of them. I'm worried that if I go in there, people will start asking questions about the past we share. And I have no idea how I would respond to that.

Humming a tune to myself, I begin to flip through Tenille's mom's recipe book. My mom was never much of a baker, which is probably why I'm not a big fan of it, but Tenille's mom loves it. Over the years, I've learned that she has some flawless recipes that even an amateur like me couldn't screw up.