Stay With Them Tonight

I woke up to the smell of burnt eggs, and I tossed the blankets aside,sighing. Cass must be trying to cook again. I froze in the middle of standing up. Cass was in Arizona. So who . . .?

I looked around, noticing the odd room decorated in tan and crimson. The room seemed familiar? In a flash, I remembered the last night and the guys and Danny and hurried downstairs.

“Hello?” I called. I couldn’t see anyone over the balustrade, so I hurried down, the smell of burnt eggs getting stronger and a gray haze starting to appear when I got close to the kitchen. “Ryan? Danny!?” I was getting a little worried, noticing there was a lot of smoke in the kitchen. I walked in to find Ryan with the collar of his shirt lifted over his mouth, showing a few inches of tanned stomach. He was leaning over a counter to open a window. His eyes were watering, and there was a pile of massacred eggs in a pan on the stove. I rushed over and clicked the heat off. He might be worse than Cassie at making food.

“Sorry,” he coughed. “Tried to make breakfast.” I grinned over at him, completely amused, and he grinned back ruefully.

In ten minutes the burnt egg smell was mostly out the window, with the help of three fans. The pan was in soaking, and Ryan was scrubbing the egg stuck to the stove while I leaned against a counter next to a fan.

“Promise me you will never, ever, do that again. Ever. Or else I’ll never be able to sleep knowing a fire may break out anytime next door.” I was joking of course, and he laughed appreciatively.

“It might still be edible! At least for a dog or something?” His second sentence was more a question.

“I don’t think so.” I bet that even the most gluttonous dog would run away from Ryan’s eggs. “So do you have any more eggs?” I asked him, deciding to skip that last thought.

“I think there might be a few in the bottom shelf of the fridge. Why? Are you any better than me?”

“Oh, I’m much better.” I leaned down and grabbed the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf of the fridge.

“I’ll say,” an amused voice said from behind me. I straightened and turned to see Jason standing mere inches from me. I glared, and he mock glared back. Couldn’t this guy ever be serious? I rolled my eyes and shoved past him.

“Jason, just shut up, man.” Ryan said from the sink.

“It smells like an incinerator in here. What’d you do, Ry?” Jason walked over and rubbed the stove with his finger, still finding burnt stuff stuck on it. He merely sighed and walked back out without waiting for an answer. “Make sure it’s clean,” he called over his shoulder.

I looked over at Ryan, but he was just muttering under his breath about stupid brothers. I smiled and looked over at the time on the oven. It was about six, which left me plenty of time. I had mastered the art of sleeping in, cooking quickly, throwing on whatever my hands touched first, and running out the door for work or school.

I thought for a second, guessed, and opened a cupboard to my left. “Aha!” I said triumphantly as I pulled out a mixing bowl. I started whisking eggs and dicing onions and ham. I searched around in the fridge, but didn’t find any cilantro. I died a little on the inside. I got the milk out instead and put some in the eggs, along with salt.

By this time I became aware the Ryan was staring at me from across the kitchen. “Don’t you have work at seven?” he asked.

“Yeah. Oh crap; is Danny up?” I had completely forgotten about the boy, but he had to be ready too.

“No, but while you’re doing this I’ll go get him up and ready.” He patted my shoulder as he walked past, and I shivered. I hadn’t realized I was cold until this moment, but I figured the heat from the stove would warm me up quickly enough.

“Maybe you should’ve put on more clothes this morning.” I stared hard at the eggs and whisked them a little harder than necessary, fully aware that I had only shorts and a tank top, but kept my back turned to Jason. He had somehow wandered back into the kitchen. I felt, more than saw, that he had that damn smirk on his face.

I took off the first two-egg omelet and handed it to him. He was closer than I thought he would dare to be, and I almost spilled the plate turning around. I huffed and reached up for another plate while the second omelet was cooking. He had changed and was now in a clean pair of jeans and a random T-shirt. I refused to look at the words on the T-shirt, not wanting to look at him for more than a second.

I heard him say something that sounded like a curse quietly, surprised. “This is pretty good.”

I turned to him, trying to raise my stubborn brow. “Pretty good?” I wanted to know where there was a better omelet, so I could beat it. Well, at least learn how to make it.

He was sitting on the counter near me, eating, and in the back of my mind I wanted to say something to him for sitting somewhere food is prepared. This wasn’t my house, unfortunately, so I ignored the urge.

I figured I was probably a pretty bad example of a girl. Competitive, distrustful, pessimistic. Those were the qualities I saw most in myself. But most of the time I was also really happy. Not giddy-slap-that-idiot-girl, but genuinely pleased with life.

It was only when I met people like Jason that I started getting cranky.

“What’s that look for?” he asked around a bite of omelet. I hadn’t realized I was glaring at him. Was this guy ever not amused? Really, that one corner of his mouth must get tired after being held up all the time!

I plated the second omelet and started the third, this time with three eggs, as Ryan walked in, Danny in tow. I handed the second omelet to Ryan while I told Danny ours would be ready in a second.

“I want my own, like Ryan and Jason!” he called out loudly, even though I wasn’t two feet from him.

“Next time. This time, you’ll have to deal with sharing with me.” I folded it and cut it in half with the pancake turner. “You pick,” I told him as I held the pan down to him. This seemed to satisfy him, and he picked the slightly bigger half.

I ate mine as fast as humanly possible, trying not to either burn my mouth or look like a pig. It was 6:45, and I still had to get dressed. I rinsed my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher, running upstairs.

Once in my familiar work clothes, I grabbed my bag and ran back down the stairs. “C’mon, Danny,” I called. "Bye, guys!" Ryan called out a goodbye while Jason just ignored me. This made me annoyed at him all over again.

Danny and I went over to my house and got in my beautiful truck. I didn’t have time to walk him, so he directed me to his daycare, which really was just down the street. I drove to work in a hurry, arriving just in time to not be late.

Yogurt, Gelato, and Ice, my place of work, was a popular place to come for teens and kids, and usually kept me busy during my eight-hour shift. It was open Monday through Saturday, seven in the morning to nine at night in the summer. Today I had the morning shift, but tomorrow I had the evening shift, and I had this Friday off.

Since I was alone until one, when a second person came in for their shift, I busied myself cleaning the counters and the back of the shop while there were no customers to take care of. It was always slow in the morning.

It was just past eleven when the door chimed, and Kelly walked in. I smiled hugely and greeted her.

“Hi, Allie! Why aren’t you answering my texts or calls?” I pulled my phone out, to see that it was dead. I showed it to her.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize it died. I was over at the Luce’s last night, by the way. Why the hell didn’t you tell me I lived next to a hot guy!?” Usually I couldn’t get her to stop talking about guys.

“Uh. So you met Ryan and Jason, I take it? Which do you think is hot?”

“Ryan, duh. Jason’s an ass.” I continued cleaning the glass display for the variety of cold deserts. I glanced over at her- she hadn’t said anything.

“Well, uh—” she started.

“Kelly! You like Jason!” I exclaimed.

“No, actually.” She made a face. “Ryan,” she said quietly. And here I thought she always went for the jerks. She continued to amaze me, after knowing her twelve years. We had been in preschool together.

I grinned over at her, silently willing her to talk more. It seems my not-so-subtle prodding finally got to her.

“So he was in my class last semester, right? And he, like, was always so nice. He’s cute, and he plays football. He’s basically the second-most wanted guy in the school—”

“Second?”

“Yeah, there’s this other guy or whatever. Actually, he’s tied second with Jason. But Jason is always too easy to get.

“Anyway, Ryan is sweet, and says if he gets into a relationship, he wants it to be serious. So he goes on these dates with girls, but never asks them to go out with him. I only really started talking to him in the last couple months of school, when we had to do Mrs. Keller’s project together with another girl. She fell for him hard, so I didn’t try to get him. But I really like him.”

She twirled her curly blonde hair, thinking hard. My own tiny crush on him was instantly extinguished. She was serious, and I definitely didn’t want him in that case. I would never, ever go after my best friend’s crush.

She suddenly faced me again, back in our current conversation. “I was texting to ask if you wanted to go to a party this Friday, as an end-of-summer thing. The girl throwing it is the girl from the project I did with Ryan, Rachel. She always said she and Ryan were meant to be, because they both have the same first initial.” She rolled her eyes. “But she’s cool. Kinda skanky, but still a good person. What do you say?”

“I say sure. And I have a customer,” I added as the door chimed. She grinned and went and sat down near the counter. When I was done, Kelly bought a scoop of the new coconut ice cream, and we talked until she had to go.

We waved, and I watched her drive off in her brand new car. Friday would be interesting.