Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Started With a Lie – Chapter Ten

It sinks in. Everything sinks in, finally. I didn’t see it coming. I never would’ve seen this coming. Lee almost kissed me. And the fact that I actually enjoyed it scares me more than anything else. It sinks in that I have feelings for Lee. Last time I liked someone; my best friend stabbed me in the back.

What will happen this time?

Lee doesn’t even feel the same. Does he? No, he couldn’t. Out of all the beautiful and rich girls, he couldn’t like me. He has a company to run and he needs someone strong and beautiful—someone not me. He probably tried kissing me because of the spur of the moment.

It’s been twenty minutes. The electricity has turned back on but I’ve been sitting on the white-tiled kitchen floor for twenty minutes. I’m a coward. How am I supposed to face Lee?

My face is in my hands and my back is against the fridge. Why did I tell Lee I had to go feed my cat? I don’t even have a cat. I wonder if Lee’s still standing in the living room, or if he left. He couldn’t have. There’s a storm. Wait, what if my rejection caused him to angrily storm out?

Worried, I get up and dash to the living room only to find Lee sleeping peacefully on the couch with the fireplace still crackling with fire. He looks so calm and serene. It fills me up with regret. I should’ve let him kiss me before I ran away.

It’s not too late, a voice in the back of my head says. I push that thought away. I don’t want to violate him while he’s sleeping. That’d be creepy.

But he looks so tempting to touch.

He looks young when he’s sleeping. The crease on his forehead that’s always there is gone. His face is acne-free and has better complexion than mine. I don’t realize I’m brushing his hair away from his eyes until his eyebrow twitches.

I pull back immediately. It would be so awkward if he wakes up at this moment. I owe him a kiss. He took all the courage to try to kiss me and I just shot him down and ran away. Besides, he’s unconscious. No harm done.

Taking a gulp, I slowly inch my face to his. His head is turned the other way so I take his face in my face and give him a quick peck. I smile mischievously. I feel so badass.

His eyes suddenly open. I smack his face. Lee shouts in pain and jolts up. I gasp, covering my own mouth in surprise.

“Why did you hit me?!” he yells, clutching his cheek from the red mark that’s starting to form under his hand.

“Um, m-mosquito,” I shrug. Lee gives me a strange look—maybe a glare—as if he’s actually challenging the idea that I really hit him because a mosquito was on his face. “You’re welcome,” I add.

“For what?!”

“Saving your blood from being sucked,” I reply nonchalantly. “Now, come on. Get up. Let’s eat some dinner.” It’s back. There’s no awkwardness. We’re back to the way it was before the whole candlelight scene. Lee’s back to his cold, rich douche demeanor, and I’m back to the girl who hates him. I’m glad. I’d hate it to be any other way.

I walk to the kitchen with Lee hot on my heels, still rubbing his cheek. Maybe, I shouldn’t have hit him that hard. He mutters something about when the lights had came back on. I glance over at him. His hair is all messed up. I didn’t notice before but he’s wearing his suit. Of course, I think as I roll my eyes. He just can’t wear anything else.

“Give me something to eat,” Lee orders, taking a seat at the island. Already, I hate his tone. He’s in my house and yet he’s ordering me around.

Just because he’s a guest and because Mom says to always be nice to guests (and try not to strangle them) I smile and say, “What would you like to eat?”

“Nothing you give me will delight my taste buds. Cheap food just doesn’t do for me,” he says, faking a yawn. My eyebrow twitches in anger. Stay calm; stay calm, I repeat in my head. He’s just mad because you rejected his sorry ass.

“Oh yeah?” I challenge, squinting my eyes.

“I’m certain.”

He asked for it. I still remember a dish Granny taught me before she moved out of New York and to Boston. Lee’s going to wish he never challenged me on my cooking skills. “You want to bet?”

Lee arches his eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure. What’s the deal?” His arms are crossed now—probably trying to look more superior—but all it’s doing are making my eyes wander to his flexing muscles. Focus, I scold myself.

“Whoever makes the greatest dinner wins,” I say, crossing my own arms. “The other person will taste it and we both have to be honest and tell each other if our meals taste good.” I rest my hands on the granite counter of the island. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Lee smirks. I smirk back.

I show Lee all the food and materials he needs to know. I bet he’s never touched a pan in his life. He was born into richness—probably never cooked. That’s why I feel so confident about this bet. I grin to myself just thinking about winning—earning a strange look from Lee. I am so going to win this bet.

While I’m boiling my pasta and Lee is making some sort of soup, he suddenly asks, “Wait, what’s the reward? If one of us wins, what do we get?”

“Hm,” I say, my wooden spoon in mid-air. “Whatever the other person wants, I guess. Is that okay with you?”

“Fine by me,” Lee smirks. He continues his recipe after that and I continue my recipe. Granny had taught me this delicious pasta recipe. Every family gathering over holidays, she would make it. My mouth waters from even thinking about it.

I scoop up the strings of the pasta and rinse them before adding pepper and spices. I pull out the meat sauce I had been working on while my pasta was boiling and spread it over the dish. For the final touch, I add some mint leaves for good breath. It’d be so embarrassing if Lee points out I have bad breath.

“Done!” Lee announces. I hear him place his dish on the island counter. I bring mine over, too. Peaking at his dish, I realize it’s soup. So average, I think while smirking. But it smells pretty good.

“I’m done, too,” I say.

We place our dishes side by side. Both look so extravagant together—unlike Lee and I. Lee hands me a spoon and I hand him a fork. We switch places and I take a sip of his. There’s bread next to his soup so I bite down on the soft bread and sip more of his creamy soup.

To say it’s delicious would be an understatement of the century.

It’s so delicious that I’m scarfing everything down in a matter of seconds. How did Lee learn how to cook? It’s so scrumptious. I underestimated that boy. Looks like a dumb snotty kid but cooks like a pro.

“Enjoying yourself?” Lee’s resting on his elbow on the tabletop, staring at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes. Never let your guard down with the enemy, I scold myself.

I remove the spoon from my mouth and place it on the plate mat. I push a string of hair behind my hair. “It’s okay.”

Lee chuckles—the best sound I’ve heard tonight. “Really? It kind of looked like you were eating like you were on the brink of starvation.”

Red fills my cheeks. “Shut up. It just isn’t too bad for a rich kid.”

“Well, I have my hidden talents,” he muses. “You’re not too bad either for such a,” he pauses, stroking his chin, “average girl.” Lee starts chuckling again.

I pick up some flour that I had used for my pasta and throw it at him. He’s caught off guard and his face gets white powder all over it. I start cracking up as he stands still for a couple of moments, rendering what just happened in his brain. I bet he never thought he would get flour thrown at him. I giggle at the thought.

I’m so busy laughing that I don’t see flour flying across the kitchen and onto my chest. I look down at my sweater. Ah man! This was brand new, too! I think angrily. I grab a fistful of flour and rub it all over his suit. Once I see his expression, I regret doing so. Note-to-self, never anger a rich guy by ruining his expensive suit.

“You are so going down, Miss Ivory Flores!” Lee says. He used my full name. He’s probably fuming with anger on the inside. He starts to lunge at me but I start running to the other side of the kitchen. “Get back here!”

“Why would I ever listen to you?” I laugh, running once again as he tries to grab my arm. It’s a close centimeter but I move quickly on time. Before I know it, we’re throwing flour and everything we can find at each other. It’s so much fun I don’t even realize the mess we’re making.

Lee is running towards me but he slips over some broken eggs on the ground. It’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen. I laugh for ten minutes straight as his cheeks redden. Thinking it’s time I help him up, I rush over but being the clumsy person I am—I trip on top of him.

I can feel the vibration from Lee’s laughter as his chest falls up and down. My cheeks are red as I try to grasp any last piece of my reputation. But then I wonder why I care. I start laughing along with Lee. It was pretty funny.

We’re laughing and laughing until our sides start aching. After, I just lay on top of him. The mood changes instantly.

I get on my knees. “Oh, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to sit on you.”

Lee awkwardly laughs and gets on his knees too. “It’s fine.” His eyes set on mine and the magnetic force is back. I want to kiss him. We’re inching closer before he pulls away. “We should probably clean up.”

Rejection. Pure rejection. It burns.

Y-Yeah, we should. My mom will kill me if she finds the kitchen in this shape,” I say, hoping his doesn’t catch the sadness and disappointment in my voice. I stand up and start picking things off the ground.

“I’ll get the kitchen,” Lee says. “You go clean up.” He’s being surprisingly nice. His eyes show nothing but kindness. Does he feel guilty? “Just bring me something to put on.”

I nod slowly and head out of the kitchen. I bite my cheek in the hallway to stop the tears from falling out. Lee rejected me. He doesn’t feel the way I feel. I knew it. Is this how he felt when I pulled away earlier? It feels so cruel.

Stepping into the shower, I let my tears out as I clean the flour and egg off my body. I wash myself twice before heading into my bedroom to change. When I try to find something to wear, I curse Mom for putting all my comfortable clothes in the laundry. All I have are undergarments.

I walk to Mom’s bedroom in my bra and underwear and pick out one of her t-shirts and shorts. They’re both big and baggy on me, thankfully. I kind of feel happy she decided to put all my clothes in the laundry. It gives me a chance to show off my body to Lee—one of the only things I’m proud about myself.

“Here,” I say once I reach back into the kitchen. It’s only half clean. I throw him some of Dad’s old clothes. “They used to belong to my dad.”

“Thanks,” Lee smiles genuinely. “But you don’t have to give me your dad’s clothes. I mean, they’re special to you, right?” He starts running his eyes over my body.

“It’s fine,” I grin, noticing his eyes and how Lee actually listened when I was rambling about my dad earlier on. It’s a shame he doesn’t like me. The thought brings a frown back to my face. I feel tears coming on. “Um, you go shower. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I don’t want him to see me crying again. I don’t want to appear weak.

Lee nods and walks out of the kitchen. I mop up the floors and parts of the countertops that he had missed. Everything else seemed to be cleaned up pretty good. Again, not too bad for a rich kid, I think. When I hear the shower turning off, I microwave our dishes and set it up at the island.

When Lee returns, my jaw drops for a split-second. It always surprises me when I see Lee without a suit. He looks like a normal teenager without it.

“I-I heated our meals if you’re still hungry,” I say. I get us some water with ice and place everything at the island. I take a seat.

“I would love to continue our little fight—which I was winning—but my stomach feels like it’s eating itself alive,” Lee grins, taking a seat besides me. “I haven’t even tasted your pasta yet.”

“Well, be prepared. You are about to be blown away.”

I don’t start eating his soup. I watch for his reaction. Lee spins some pasta onto his fork and into his mouth. His eyes widen a fraction, but I catch it anyways.

“Told you it would be delicious,” I brag. Satisfied with his reaction, I continue drinking his delicious soup without containing myself. “And you said you would actually win this contest.”

“I never said it was delicious. It’s okay. Could use better spices, though.” Lee continues eating my pasta, pushing his comments aside.

“Denial,” I point out. “Besides, if you had tasted it while it was fresh off the stove, you would’ve said otherwise. I make a mean meat sauce. You can’t deny that, can you?” Lee just chuckles. “Hey, who taught you this? It’s pretty good for a rich kid.”

“Um, my father,” Lee says. His voice is low. I’ve never seen him talking about something that’s ever made him vulnerable. I realize Lee’s never opened up to me. I told him about my father, but he’s never told me about his. “It’s an old British recipe.”

“I knew you were British!” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I could so tell. I have skills. Just like my amazing cooking skills that you keep denying.” I don’t want to push Lee into telling me about his father when he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Whatever you say.”

The rest of the dinner we switch jokes and talk about random things like the weather and what not. It’s a comfortable conversation with light-hearted quirks. It feels nice. I push away all negative thoughts and just enjoy the moment.

I hope it stays like this.

Bam-bam-chicken-and-ham.

Yep, another chapter. I'm feeling hungry, which explains all the food in this chapter. I'm just using up my weekend to get all my ideas out before I forget, hehe. This is a light-hearted chapter, nothing serious yet. Some light things before the storm comes. Get it? Because they're stuck in a blizzard? Ha. I got to stop talking to myself.

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Thank you for Teen Fiction # 6 and Humor # 2. This is the highest I've ever gone. Wow. Keep it up!

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