“For a run?”
“No, to prom.” She smiles sarcastically.
“Sure,” I say, surprised she wants to run with me. I haven’t gone on a run with her since before my accident, and I know I’m not exactly in shape from the hike at Breakneck.
“I might slow you dow—” I start.
“Be ready in five minutes,” she says before leaving me lying in my bed. Eventually, I roll out from under my covers to investigate my closet. My running clothes are way in the back, because they haven’t been used since last year.
Some people don’t like running in the cold, but I’d much rather bundle up and run outside in the winter than sweat a gallon in the heat of summer. I find warm running tights and a fleece jacket.
My run with Ashley isn’t the longest one I’ve ever been on, but it’s nice to clear my head.
“What’re you up to today?” Ashley asks once we’re back in the driveway. I’m gasping for air, my hands on my hips as we slow to a stop.
Between deep breaths, I realize I haven’t filled her in about anything with Andy. It’s probably for the best. If I told her I was hanging out with him yesterday, she’d have a million questions about him. Now I can just tell her about Pete.
“I’m going to the Culinary today for a chocolate-making class,” I say. “With Pete.”
“Oh,” Ashley said softly, as if she’s bummed. Did she think we were going to keep hanging out?
“Sorry,” I say right away. “Where’s Steve? Don’t you normally hang out with him on weekends?”
“Why do you always bring Steve into everything?”
I gawk. “I guess that’s a no….” I think back to when I mentioned him earlier. She brushed it off then too. “Did something happen?” I ask.
“No, nothing happened. Is it that unbelievable that I’d want to hang out with my sister?”
I look at her in amazement. The truth is yes, it is unbelievable. Maybe last year I would’ve thought otherwise, but I can’t think of a single time recently that she chose me over Steve.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Ashley demands.
“I’m thinking about how to respond without being mean,” I admit.
Her head whips back like I said something horrible.
“You’re one to talk, Ella. You’re going to a chocolate-making class with an ex-boyfriend over me.”
“That’s not fair. He’s not just my ex-boyfriend,” I argue, before I realize that wasn’t the point. “I would’ve invited you if I knew you wanted to come.”
“Yeah, right” is all she says, and she storms away toward the stairs.
“How are you mad at me?” I call out. “You always do stuff with Steve over me!”
It was about time I told her the truth, but I never thought it would be in a fight like this. She doesn’t even turn around to talk about it. She continues storming toward the steps, even past our dad as he walks out of the office without a word.
“What’s her deal?” I ask Dad as we listen to her feet go up the stairs. There must be something going on with Steve that she’s not telling me.
My dad shrugs. “I was hoping you could fill me in.”
I sigh. Somehow, I’m still messing everything up.
* * *
When I open the door, I notice Pete’s haircut immediately. His sandy brown hair is short. I always liked the flow to his long locks, but there’s something about this that works for him. He’s clean-cut.
Pete strokes the top of his head as he catches me staring. “The barber went a little overboard….”
“No, I love it,” I respond.
“You do?” he asks. It isn’t the question that bothers me, it’s how he says it. Like it’s hard to believe I wouldn’t like something about him, even if it’s just a simple haircut. If Pete is my admirer, the least I could do is show some appreciation. Even if he isn’t, this great guy is clearly into me. Friday night, he joined me for a cheesy date that a lot of guys would probably laugh at. He could’ve come up with a million and one excuses for why we couldn’t do it, or offered to hang out later, but he didn’t. It could be because the chocolate date was his idea to begin with, or because he just wants to hang out with me. Either way, it makes him a great guy. He’s at my doorstep looking down at me, surprised that I’m complimenting him.
“Really,” I say. “You look great. And thanks so much for coming with me today. It means a lot.”
“Of course,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m happy you asked me.”
“Still sweet of you to join me,” I say, starting to walk toward his car.
He nods, missing my pun entirely, but I won’t let that bother me today.
* * *
Walking into the Culinary Institute of America is a little like walking into your favorite reality cooking show. You can smell the classrooms before you even enter the building, since half of them are actually test kitchens. We’ll be meeting in one of them, and as I make my way toward it with Pete, I get a delicious whiff of something cinnamon. My brain tries to guess what it is while my mouth waters. Maybe apple pie or some other delicious pastry? Peering into the test kitchen windows, I can see the shiny copper pots hanging from the ceilings like decorations. In my pure excitement, I grab Pete’s arm as we walk, and he smiles sweetly back at me.
Just when I think I’m about to have the best sequel to a first date ever, I walk into the test kitchen, and there, standing by a table in the back, is Andy.
My cheeks burn. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I let go of Pete’s arm and walk straight over to him. It’s only when I’m right in front of him that I realize he’s not the only person I recognize. Sarah’s sitting next to him, wearing a striped turtleneck under overalls. She tilts her head when I stop in front of them.
“What’re you doing here?” I try to whisper, but it comes out more as an angry hiss.
“Chocolate on a Sunday, sign me up,” Andy says. “I had no idea the CIA offered these kinds of classes until yesterday. But having real teachers from the CIA helps a newbie cook like me. Amazing.”
“Yeah, except you knew I was doing this.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a class, though,” Andy says, gesturing to the room of tables. “A lot of people are doing it….Who is that guy you came in with, by the way? Let me guess…Pete?”