Anastasia

44

"Don't let hope make you stupid."

"Thank you," Ana shot a kind smile at the cashier, wrapping her fingers on the plastic handle, carrying the cake out of the bakery. It wasn't a cake, cake. It was just a small, simple cupcake with frosting drizzled on top. She reminded herself not to swing the plastic bag, because that was just her bad habit - she would swing anything and everything that is in her hands.

"We're finally going home now." he reached over for the plastic bag and hung it on one of the handlebars. He waited for Ana to get onto the backseat before working his legs out on the pedals. It's a great workout, since I have never been able to exercise lately. He thought. His mind unconsciously wandered to the second lie he had spoke forth to her just now, and convinced himself that it was for him to discover and find out for his sake, and to buy her trust so that he know who he is really dating. He suppressed the guilt that was surfacing in his heart, pushing it to the deepest depths of his beating organ.

"What are we having for dinner?" she tapped him on the shoulder, her voice light and cheery. He brought himself out of his thoughts, thankful for the distraction.

"You'll know soon enough." he said, returning her a lopsided smile.

"Ooh, I hope I won't get poisoned." she joked.

"That's mean of you to say that." he faked a pout, and she laughed.

***

"Dinner's served." he carefully laid down two large plates of beef bolognese pasta, steam rising from the hot sauce. He intricately placed three meatballs on each side of the plate, and finished the look off with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, basil leaves and bits of spices on top of the bright red sauce. Except for the meatballs, he made everything else from scratch; even made the sauce was handmade, which impressed Ana greatly. It's a wonder how he got to learn such brilliant cooking skills and techniques to whip up an authentic meal. She helped to make the sauce as instructed by Zachary, cutting the tomatoes and blending it with spices into a paste like form. She sneaked several pictures of him whenever she wasn't doing anything. Although she couldn't get a full view of his face, a side or the back view would be enough for her. For memories.

"Wonderful," she praised, snapping a couple of shots from her phone at different angles. Zachary chuckled, clearing the small bits on the chopping board into the bin. He washed the boards and bowls he used for the preparation of ingredients, wiping them dry and placing them back into his shelf. Each student will have his own shelf to store his own bowls and cutlery, as well as the pots, pans - basically whatever is needed for cooking.

Ana waited for him to finish clearing the kitchen table. Meanwhile, she updated her mother that she has been doing well in school and she has nothing to worry about. She sent a picture of Zachary's meal and told her that she has enough food to keep her alive, adding a laughing emoji at the end of her text.

Slipping her phone back into her bag, Zachary sat down on the seat opposite her, picking up his cutlery. Ana imitated him and without wasting another second, they dove into the meal. Ana ate with pleasure, savouring the chewiness of the pasta between her teeth, the hot tomato sauce - just like the ones in the supermarket stores - not too salty, not too sweet. The juicy meatballs were - well - as usual, similar to those tasted in restaurants.

"Do you like it?" he said through a mouthful of pasta. He was almost done.

Ana nodded. Her mouth couldn't make out a smile, if not all the contents in it would spill out, but her eyes were smiling. "Thank you."

"That's the seventeenth time you've said that today." he noted.

"Shut up, just appreciate my lovely comments." she waved her fork at him, and he shook his head at her disapprovingly, albeit the upward tug of his lips had betrayed it.