“Okay the pasta better not have overcooked,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way over to the oven at a quick pace. I began to cook pasta about twenty five minutes ago and totally forgot about it. I picked up a nearby plastic spoon and stirred up the pasta and picked up a spoonful of the pasta to check it’s consistency. When I saw that the spaghetti was still mostly like how it is right out of the box.
“Looks like the water wasn’t hot enough,” I thought out loud. “I’m such a horrible cook.”
“Well you sure as hell are a better cook than I am,” Another voice said. I was slightly spooked by it at first but I soon was able to figure out who the owner of the voice was. Alynne was back from the photoshoot today. I’m someone who can’t even get a tv dinner to cook properly.”
“Woah, you scared the shit out of me,” I exclaimed as I continued to stir the pasta around. I then twisted an oven dial to heat up the water that had either already cooled down, wasn’t hot enough, or didn’t even get heated up in the first place. “And that doesn’t count because the dinner was faulty,” I felt the need to remind. Alynne had been super flustered about the whole thing but I eventually found out that the Macaroni and Cheese microwavable dinner was defective.
“I’m sorry,” Alynne apologized as she came up to my side and began to stroke my arm. Why she resorted to doing this a lot, I have no clue, but it’s not a bother so I don’t object.
“No need to apologize,” I replied. “I just didn’t expect you to be back this early,” I added. “Had I known you’d be back earlier I would have started cooking dinner earlier. I wanted to surprise you when you got home with a fully cooked dinner with the table all set and everything. Looks like that won’t be happening tonight.”
“I would have called but my phone was dead,” She defended, it evident in her voice that she was starting to feel bad about ruining my plans.
“You didn’t ruin my plans,” I attempted to persuade. “I wasn’t smart enough to make sure the water was boiling.”
“Looks like both of us are shitty cooks then,” She commented before beginning to laugh. I joined in because I found her comment much funnier than I think it was intended to be. At least it’s just Alynne and I here so I won’t need to worry about being judged on it like I usually am when I start laughing in public. Alynne is probably the only person who isn’t a member of my family that understands that when I laugh I laugh a lot longer than necessary and find things a lot funnier than they were originally intended to be.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” I agreed, even though it was most likely already crystal clear, by now. “And it looks like this pasta’s no good courtesy of my inability to make sure that the water’s boiling.”
“So what do you think we should have now?” Alynne asked, wanting to hear my input and or solution to this problem. “Do you want me to get a couple boxes of macaroni and cheese?”
“Please,” I begged. She rolled her eyes and skipped off into the next room where we stored all of our boxes and canned goods. She soon reappeared with two boxes of store brand macaroni and cheese in her hands.
“Catch,” She queued as she threw the boxes, them soon becoming airborne. I caught the first box easy enough but almost dropped the second one.
“You are so lucky I caught that,” I informed. “If I dropped it then you’d be cleaning up the macaroni noodles that would be scattered all over the floor.”
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Mirror
Diversos"Every broken mirror has a twisted reflection" Alynne Ramirez has a life that she never dreamed that she'd ever have. She's a successful model at a small agency and has been offered a transfer to one of the most popular firms in exchange for one sma...
