Crazy Stupid Bad Boy Love

Baking and Rock Bands

"I'm so bored!" Corey whined.

It had been a few weeks since the kidnapping and almost everything was back to normal.

Almost.

Anna was on a business trip to Illinois and mom got called into an office in New York for a few weeks. They were both reluctant to leave us by ourselves, but Corey managed to convince them.

We are eighteen after all. But he promised to either ring his aunt who lived close by or Dylan if anything happened.

We were sitting in front of the T.V, watching the latest episode of American Horror Story, Corey's head on my lap.

"Well then, what do you want to do?"

Corey shrugged, still staring at the T.V screen.

We kept watching in silence for a while, before Corey jumped up, smashing his forehead against mine.

"Ow!" We both shouted in unison, rubbing our foreheads.

"I think I'm mildly concussed," I murmured, still rubbing my forehead.

"I know what we can do!" Corey shouted, forgetting about his aching forehead and sounding like a three year old.

I looked at him expectantly, still clutching my head.

"We can bake a cake!"

"Seriously? You want to bake? A cake?"

"Yeah," Corey shrugged, "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," I sighed.

Corey rolled off my lap, fell onto the floor and ran towards the kitchen. I lazily slid off the couch and followed him.

He sat down on one of the chairs and started swinging around. Expecting him to help later on, I got out all of the ingredients.

"Corey, can you get the flour?" I was on my toes and I still couldn't reach it.

Corey looked up from his phone, before looking back down.

"Corey?"

"Mmm?"

"Can you get the flour?"

"What's the magic word?" He said like a four year old.

"Please? Please can you get the flour?"

"There we go," he said with a smile, hopping off the stool and coming to help me.

He easily reached the flour and put it on the bench.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome honey dearest."

I looked up at him weirdly and he gave me a sheepish smile.

"Corey, could you please crack the eggs?"

"As you wish," he said, stood up and started cracking the eggs into a bowl. While he did this, I mixed the sugar and butter together.

"Corey could you please rub my feet?"

He looked up at me then looked back down.

"But I said please," I pouted before we both started laughing.

"Okay," I said, looking up at Corey who had finished cracking the eggs, "Put it in."

"That's what she said."

He exploded into a fit of giggles, spilling the eggs all over the table as he 'poured' them into the bigger bowl.

I kept making the cake on my own, since Corey had no idea what to do and was still occasionally laughing at his joke.