Hum Hallelujah
Misunderstanding.
I smiled to myself as I heard the familiar complaint come from her stomach. I had heard that noise too many times with the lads and knew that I should change that. She looked at her stomach and went bright red. I just laughed and walked out the door, motioning for her to follow.
After leading her into the kitchen I pulled a chair out for her at the table and went to the cupboards and fridge. I know I have my problems with her, whatever they may be, but she is one of my best mates girlfriends so I have to be nice.
"What are you doing?" she asked interrupting my line of thought.
"You ask a lot of questions don't you." I stated, continuing with my cooking.
"Yes I do. Now are you going to answer it?" she remarked back. Cocky little so and so.
"If you must know I'm making you an omelette. Don't worry it's not got posion in it. Yet..."
She quickly looked atme with a shocked expression causing me to burst out laughing. The look on her face was just classic.
"You little b-" she started.
"Excuse me non of that language here." I cut her off.
"Fine. Well what are you having?" she asked.
"Again with the questions. Are you sure you're not a reporter?"
"Yes I'm sure. Why would reporters be following you around anyway?"
Now it was my turn to look at her. Although this time she didn't laugh. This time she was deadly serious.
"Are you kidding?!" I gawped at her.
She just shook her head.
"Well you'll have to ask Patrick then when he gets home. Which I do hope is soon."
She stuck her tongue out at me and I carried on cooking. When it was done I cut up an orange and placed two segments on top with a sprig of parsley. Now I may not be amazing (who am I kidding I so am) but at least I can cook.
"Wow this looks great." she said no sarcasm included.
"Wait until you try it then. Want a drink?" I asked making my way over to the fridge.
"Erm yes please. Orange juice please." she replied cutting into her omelette.
The melted cheese still joined the segment she pulled away to the omelette. A sign it was done to perfection.
I poured her juice into a glass, put the carton back into the fridge door and wandered over to her. Then I tripped. Over nothing. To make it worse the juice I was holding went flying out of my hands, missed the omelette (thank god), and landed on her, completely soaking her shirt.
"Oh my God I am so sorry!" I rambled.
"I didn't even see anything there. It was like I tripped over air! Is there anything I can do to help? Here have a towel."
She laughed and tried wiping herself down.
"It's fine. Mistakes happen. But we do have one problem." she said looking at me.
"What's that?" I asked dreading the outcome.
"Well two actually... One: this was one of my favourite shirts so you best hope it washes out. And two: I only have this shirt with me. So I either borrow someone's shirt or go topless."
I stood there like a moron thinking of all the people in the house and wondering what would fit her. Then it popped in my head. Patrick was too big, Andy was too tall, Joe was Joe and had terrible fashion sense and then there was me.
"I know just what to do. Come with me!" I shouted running upstairs.
She quickly followed and came into my bedroom where I was rifling through my things trying to find something suitable. I finally found my red Clandestine t-shirt and handed it to her. She looked at it and smiled.
"You sure?" she asked.
I wasn't but nodded anyway and she disappeared to go change. When she came back I discovered it was too long but fit perfectly everywhere else. To be honest it seemed like just her style. I smiled when I heard the door open downstairs and ran down to see what they had bought.
"Patrick! Please tell me you have Chuppa Chupps!!"
He turned to answer, smiling, but that quickly faded as he saw what Emily was wearing.
"What happened?" he asked.
I turned and looked at her. It looked like she wasn't wearing anything else.
"Nothing like that Pat I spilt juice on her and leant her one of my shirts no biggy." I tried to explain but he was looking at her.
"You've known him two days and you're already cheating on me with him?!" he shouted.
After leading her into the kitchen I pulled a chair out for her at the table and went to the cupboards and fridge. I know I have my problems with her, whatever they may be, but she is one of my best mates girlfriends so I have to be nice.
"What are you doing?" she asked interrupting my line of thought.
"You ask a lot of questions don't you." I stated, continuing with my cooking.
"Yes I do. Now are you going to answer it?" she remarked back. Cocky little so and so.
"If you must know I'm making you an omelette. Don't worry it's not got posion in it. Yet..."
She quickly looked atme with a shocked expression causing me to burst out laughing. The look on her face was just classic.
"You little b-" she started.
"Excuse me non of that language here." I cut her off.
"Fine. Well what are you having?" she asked.
"Again with the questions. Are you sure you're not a reporter?"
"Yes I'm sure. Why would reporters be following you around anyway?"
Now it was my turn to look at her. Although this time she didn't laugh. This time she was deadly serious.
"Are you kidding?!" I gawped at her.
She just shook her head.
"Well you'll have to ask Patrick then when he gets home. Which I do hope is soon."
She stuck her tongue out at me and I carried on cooking. When it was done I cut up an orange and placed two segments on top with a sprig of parsley. Now I may not be amazing (who am I kidding I so am) but at least I can cook.
"Wow this looks great." she said no sarcasm included.
"Wait until you try it then. Want a drink?" I asked making my way over to the fridge.
"Erm yes please. Orange juice please." she replied cutting into her omelette.
The melted cheese still joined the segment she pulled away to the omelette. A sign it was done to perfection.
I poured her juice into a glass, put the carton back into the fridge door and wandered over to her. Then I tripped. Over nothing. To make it worse the juice I was holding went flying out of my hands, missed the omelette (thank god), and landed on her, completely soaking her shirt.
"Oh my God I am so sorry!" I rambled.
"I didn't even see anything there. It was like I tripped over air! Is there anything I can do to help? Here have a towel."
She laughed and tried wiping herself down.
"It's fine. Mistakes happen. But we do have one problem." she said looking at me.
"What's that?" I asked dreading the outcome.
"Well two actually... One: this was one of my favourite shirts so you best hope it washes out. And two: I only have this shirt with me. So I either borrow someone's shirt or go topless."
I stood there like a moron thinking of all the people in the house and wondering what would fit her. Then it popped in my head. Patrick was too big, Andy was too tall, Joe was Joe and had terrible fashion sense and then there was me.
"I know just what to do. Come with me!" I shouted running upstairs.
She quickly followed and came into my bedroom where I was rifling through my things trying to find something suitable. I finally found my red Clandestine t-shirt and handed it to her. She looked at it and smiled.
"You sure?" she asked.
I wasn't but nodded anyway and she disappeared to go change. When she came back I discovered it was too long but fit perfectly everywhere else. To be honest it seemed like just her style. I smiled when I heard the door open downstairs and ran down to see what they had bought.
"Patrick! Please tell me you have Chuppa Chupps!!"
He turned to answer, smiling, but that quickly faded as he saw what Emily was wearing.
"What happened?" he asked.
I turned and looked at her. It looked like she wasn't wearing anything else.
"Nothing like that Pat I spilt juice on her and leant her one of my shirts no biggy." I tried to explain but he was looking at her.
"You've known him two days and you're already cheating on me with him?!" he shouted.