A Recipe for Disaster

[Alex's POV]

I fell backwards onto my large comforter, making a slight ‘oomph’ sound as I hit it. I looked up at my ceiling, my large poster of Blink-182 staring down at me. I sighed, rolling over and unclenching my hand. A small piece of now crumpled paper sat in palm. I uncrumpled the small scrap of paper, holding it out in front of my face. On it, it said “Anabelle”, with a little heart, and then her phone number. I took out my cell phone, adding the number into it. I wished I’d gotten a picture.

I’d only known the girl for four hours, and I was already crushing like someone would be crushed by a two-ton boulder. The way her eyes sparkled. How the light hit her fluorescent skin. Her wavy dirty blonde hair tumbling over her slim shoulders… she just seemed like perfection in every aspect of the word.

At that moment, my cell phone rang. I looked at it, then disappointment crossed my face. I reluctantly answered.

“Hey, Jack,” I said, sighing.

“Hey Alex,” he replied. “You sound kinda off, dude. Is something wrong?” I sighed again, looking at the wrinkled paper once again. “Does this have anything to do with Anabelle?” I felt a blush creep onto my face.

“N-no,” I stuttered, running a hand through my messy hair. “W-why would you think that?” I heard Jack chuckle on the other line.

“Because if I know you - which I have, for three years - you’ve been staring at Anabelle’s phone number for the past hour.” I felt my face warm up some more, clenching my hand once again.

“No,” I scoffed.

“Alright, 45 minutes, but you get the picture,” he stated. “It’s so obvious that you like her, man. And I could tell by the way that she was glancing at you that she likes you too. You two would be perfect for each other.”

“No way in Hell, Jack,” I stated. “Anabelle wouldn’t like me. I know she wouldn’t; I’m not her type. She goes to your school, the one for smart and rich people. I don’t want to know if her parents are loaded or anything, whatever got her into the school puts her out of my league.”

“Dude, she’s so your type that it’s not even sensible. And she got into school through hard work, studying and getting perfect grades. Just because she’s smart doesn’t make her out of your league; it just makes her even better for you. I swear you two are made for each other.”

“What about you and Izzy, hm?” I asked, changing the subject. I heard Jack shifting on the other line.

“Oh, speaking of Izzy,” he said, changing the subject himself, “would you happen to have her phone number?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied. “…wait, didn’t she give it to you before she left?” He chuckled.

“She forgot, I guess,” he said. “Too bust smacking my ass yet again.” I laughed, then relayed her phone number to him.

“Only Izzy would be too busy teasing you and flirting with you that she’d forget to give you her number.”

“And only you and Anabelle get too flustered around an attractive member of the opposite sex to flirt and tease each other,” Jack said, changing the subject again. “Come on, man. Why don’t you just hang up and call her right now? I could tell you’re thinking about it.” I shook my head.

“No, I’m not calling her just yet,” I said.

“Well, I want to call Izzy,” he complained. “And who knows the next time I’ll see her, or the next time you’ll see Anabelle. It’s Friday night, and we don’t have school on Monday.”

“We don’t?” I asked, confusion in my voice.

“No, of course we don’t,” he said. “It’s President’s Day. And we have band practice with Zack and Rian that day. Maybe we could invite the girls to it? Then you could sing to Anabelle again.”

“Shut up,” I said, feeling flustered. “Maybe you could play to Izzy and have her sing for you.” I could hear Jack pausing, most likely blushing himself.

“Now you shut up.” I laughed.

“This isn’t going to be one of those phone conversations that ends with ‘no, you hang up first’, is it?” Jack laughed himself.

“Hopefully not,” he said. “Well, I’m going to go call Izzy, invite her to practice. Call Anabelle and invite her too, or I swear I’ll come over there and beat you up with my huge…” He took a pause. “…baseball bat.”

“You are sick and perverted,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I knew there was a good reason we were best friends.”

“Oh, and if the girls come to practice, it will be a great opportunity to break out the booty shorts,” Jack added. I face palmed.

“Jesus Christ, Jack, don’t scar the poor girls!” I exclaimed.

“I won’t, I promise,” he said, laughing. “Anyways, going to call Izzy, you better call Anabelle or I’ll beat you for sure. Catch you later, man.” Jack hung up, and I shut my phone. I sat in silence for a few moments before letting out an aggravated noise.

“Come on, Alex, you can do this,” I muttered. “It’s just a girl, not the end of the world.” I reopened my cell phone, going to my contacts and seeing Anabelle’s number at the top. I swallowed, breathing deeply a few times before pressing the ‘send’ button. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as it began to ring. My breath hitched in my throat as someone picked up the phone.

“Hello?” said the sweet voice that very much belonged to Anabelle. I exhaled, telling myself that I could do this.

“Uh, h-hey, Anabelle,” I said. “It’s Alex.” I could hear her breath hitch in her throat as well, pausing.

“Oh, um, h-hi,” she murmured. “What’s up?” I ran a hand through my hair.

“Oh, not much,” I said. “Um, I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d like to come to band rehearsal on Monday? Come watch Jack, Zack, Rian, and I practice as a full band.”

“Oh, I’d love to!” she said, enthusiasm in her voice. “Is, uh, Izzy going to be there?” I nodded into the phone, feeling more relaxed by now.

“She should be,” I said. “I know Jack’s inviting her.” She let out a small ‘oh’, and I could imagine her tucking a strand of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

“Alright then,” she said. There was an awkward pause in between us.

“Uh, and if it’s not too much trouble, would you like to come hang out with me at Soundtrack tomorrow? Just the two of us, so we can get to know each other better,” I said with a smile. I knew asking her this was a long shot, but hey; you have to risk it to get the biscuit. Or in this case, to get Anabelle.

“I’d love to,” she said again, shyness at the edge of her voice. “What time do you want me to meet you there?” I grinned.

“Noon sound good to you?” I asked.

“Just perfect.”

--

I sat at a table in Soundtrack, waiting for Anabelle to show up. I was late to nearly everything in my life, but for the first time, I’d shown up ten minutes early. I sipped on my hot Peppermint latte, the warmth of it helping warm me up from the 20 degree weather outside. I watched as the door swung open, revealing a very flustered, very cold-looking Anabelle. She saw me and timidly waved, approaching the table.

“Hey there,” I said. “Jesus, you look freezing.” She shrugged, sitting down.

“Well, it’s cold out,” she said. “And I walked here.” I pushed my latte across the table, and she looked at me quizzically.

“Take a sip, it’ll help warm you up,” I said. ’Even though I want to be the one warming you up.’ She reluctantly took a sip, smiling as she brought the cup from her lips.

“A Peppermint latte?” she asked, pushing it across the table. I nodded, and her already rosy cheeks turned a bit redder. “That’s my favourite kind.” I blushed a bit myself, scratching the back of my head.

“Mine too,” I said. “It tastes just like my chap stick. …Wow, that sounded a lot straighter in my head.” Anabelle giggled, taking off her hat and letting her wavy dirty blonde hair down.

“I’m sure it did,” she said. She stood up. “I’m going to go get my own Peppermint latte.” She turned to leave, when I stood up myself.

“No,” I said. She turned back towards me, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, what I mean is, I’ll get you one. You just stay here.” She blushed again, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink.

“No, it’s fine,” she said.

“You paid for everyone’s stuff yesterday when we went to the convenience store. Let me get this one,” I insisted, taking my wallet out of my back pocket. In all actuality, I only had enough money to buy another latte, but I left out that bit of information.

“Alright,” she said, giving in and sitting back down. I smiled at her and went up to the counter, ordering another peppermint latte. I paid the cashier the $3.50, taking the hot drink and bringing it back to the table, setting it in front of Anabelle and sitting back down across from her.

“There you go,” I said, grinning. She smiled, taking a sip of the drink.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll have to pay you back.” I shook my head, laughing slightly.

“No, this is paying you back for buying me Red Bull yesterday,” I said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Alright,” she said, sipping it again. There was a long pause in between them, both of them not knowing what to talk about. “You were really good yesterday,” Anabelle said, breaking the silence. I blushed slightly, smiling at her.

“You really think so?” I asked. She nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re a really amazing singer. Did you write those songs that you guys performed too?” I nodded slightly. “Then you’re a great song writer too. Those songs were really remarkable.”

“You’re just saying that,” I muttered. “They’re not that good.” She looked me in the eyes, her green eyes shining with honesty.

“Yes they are,” she stated. “You have a way with words. I bet your girlfriend likes that.” I nearly choked on the sip of latte I’d taken at her comment.

“Girlfriend?” I asked. She nodded. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t had one in a year and a half.” Anabelle’s eyes widened slightly.

“Seriously?” she said. I nodded this time. “That’s surprises me.”

“Well, I’m sure that you have a boyfriend,” I said, taking another sip of the latte.

“Me? Having a boyfriend?” she said. “That’s insane. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.

“No,” she said. “I’m not.”

“That’s surprising to me,” he said. “Everyone must be blind or something. I mean, you’re really pretty.” I turned bright red as soon as I realized what had just come out of my mouth, Anabelle blushing as well.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she said, struggling for words. I nodded in agreement.

I had a feeling that getting Anabelle Elizabeth Kitching as a girlfriend was going to be tougher than I thought.