The Fire Between High & Lo
Page 58
“Why are you yelling?” she whispered.
“I don’t know!”
She laughed, making me want to kiss her. “Logan… Try the food.”
I grabbed the spoon from her hand. Diving into the dish, I tossed the warm risotto into my mouth. The moment it hit my lips, I spit it back out onto her plate. “Oh my gosh, that tastes like ass.”
She nodded, apologetically. “When I said it was bland, I was being polite.”
My shoulders slumped, and I fell against the ground. “How did I start sucking at cooking? That was the one thing I was good at.”
“You don’t suck at cooking. You just lost your passion, probably. Don’t worry, we can find it. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll help you try to cook something else. We’ll keep trying until you perfect three dishes that Jacob could never turn down.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
We stayed up that night, eating disgusting risotto and remembering what it felt like to be happy with one another. For the following two weeks, I showed up at her house, and we cooked and cooked, until we found three dishes that tasted like heaven. It felt good to be around her, it felt free. We talked, laughed, and made messes. It felt like all those years ago, when all we did was laugh with one another. Alyssa coached me through perfecting every single one of my dishes, and I was so thankful that she had.
I sat the final chocolate cake in front of her, and she moaned before it even hit her lips. “Moaning over my cake before you’ve even tasted it?” I asked.
“Definitely moaning over your cake before I’ve even tasted it.” She opened her mouth, and I grabbed a fork, scooped up some cake, and placed it in her mouth. As she began chewing, she moaned louder. “Oh my God, Logan.”
I beamed with pride. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.”
“You’d have no dollars, and no cents,” she mocked. “No. Seriously, you have to try this,” she said, but instead of getting a fork for me, she dived her hand into the cake, and shoved it into my face. “Isn’t that good?” She giggled like a five-year-old as I wiped chocolate from my eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Oh yeah. It’s so good. I bet you want more,” I said. Right as she went to dash, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me. With my free hand I scooped up cake and shoved it into her mouth. She squeaked.
“Logan! I can’t believe you,” she laughed, smearing her chin against my chin, rubbing it deeper into my slight five o’clock shadow. “It’s in my hair!”
“It’s in my nostrils!” I replied, shaking it from my face the best I could, laughing at the sound of her laughs.
We kept snickering for a while until the moment passed. My hand was still wrapped around her, and when our sounds ceased, our heartbeats increased.
I’m falling in love with you.
My mind was so flooded from missing Alyssa for all those years, that I almost forgot why I had to miss her. Because loving me is dangerous. Change the subject.
I took a step backward, releasing my grip on her. “Alyssa.”
“Yeah?”
“You have a guitar in your bedroom, do you play?”
She wavered back and forth with her hands. “Kind of. It helps keep me creative. I’m okay at it, nowhere near as good as I am with the piano.”
“Kellan’s been unable to play. His hands are shaky, and he sometimes forgets his own lyrics. I can tell it’s eating him up.”
She frowned. “I can only imagine what that’s like. Being unable to do what you love.”
“Yeah. I was wondering, I know you said you’re not great at playing, but can you teach me? Can you teach me whatever you can so I can maybe play for him?”
“There it is again.” She breathed out a small sigh.
“There what is?”
“The small glimpse of the boy I used to love.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Logan
The next week, I brought Alyssa with me as I sat in Jacob’s restaurant for my final examination of food. Seeing how she was my inspiration behind the dish, it felt right that she’d be the one sitting beside me as Jacob told me to piss off and find a new line of work. Crisp-Tender Roast Duck with a raspberry-rosemary sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes dressed with olive oil and seasonings, and garlic Brussel sprouts.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at Jacob make the same mundane facial expression as he chewed. Alyssa’s foot tapped nervously beside me and she chewed on her shirt collar, which made me smile. I didn’t know who was more worried about the duck not meeting Jacob’s standards—Alyssa or me.
“You have to dip the duck into the sauce!” Alyssa chimed in before going back to chewing on her shirt. “Oh! And the Brussel sprouts. Dip the Brussel sprouts in the raspberry sauce, too!”
He did as she said, and I cringed watching. He placed his fork down, sat back in the booth and a small smile graced his lips. “Well, fuck me sideways, that’s good.”
A bit of confidence found me. “Yeah?”
“No. Like—it’s good. Like out of the world, best-thing-I’ve-ever-eaten-good.” He went back to spooning more into his mouth. “Holy shit. Whatever you did to this dish, I want you to do to my menu each and every day you come into work.”
“So… I got the job?”
“Keep cooking like that and you can have the whole restaurant,” he laughed. Then he grew serious, pointing a finger at me. “That was a joke. The restaurant isn’t for sale.”
I laughed. “Well, the job is good enough for now.”
Pride filled me up inside, and I almost burst. Alyssa was beaming from left to right as she reached out, tossing her hands around me. “I knew it!” she whispered against my ear. “I knew you could do it.”
I breathed in her peach shampoo.
“All right, children, break it up. Go out and celebrate tonight. Logan, you start on Monday.”
We all stood up and Jacob went for a handshake, but I scooped him up into a bear hug and spun him around in circles before kissing his forehead. “Thanks, Jacob.”
“Anytime, friend.”
As Alyssa and I went to leave, I paused. “Oh yeah, Jacob, wait.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with the recipe for my hair mask.
“I don’t know!”
She laughed, making me want to kiss her. “Logan… Try the food.”
I grabbed the spoon from her hand. Diving into the dish, I tossed the warm risotto into my mouth. The moment it hit my lips, I spit it back out onto her plate. “Oh my gosh, that tastes like ass.”
She nodded, apologetically. “When I said it was bland, I was being polite.”
My shoulders slumped, and I fell against the ground. “How did I start sucking at cooking? That was the one thing I was good at.”
“You don’t suck at cooking. You just lost your passion, probably. Don’t worry, we can find it. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll help you try to cook something else. We’ll keep trying until you perfect three dishes that Jacob could never turn down.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
We stayed up that night, eating disgusting risotto and remembering what it felt like to be happy with one another. For the following two weeks, I showed up at her house, and we cooked and cooked, until we found three dishes that tasted like heaven. It felt good to be around her, it felt free. We talked, laughed, and made messes. It felt like all those years ago, when all we did was laugh with one another. Alyssa coached me through perfecting every single one of my dishes, and I was so thankful that she had.
I sat the final chocolate cake in front of her, and she moaned before it even hit her lips. “Moaning over my cake before you’ve even tasted it?” I asked.
“Definitely moaning over your cake before I’ve even tasted it.” She opened her mouth, and I grabbed a fork, scooped up some cake, and placed it in her mouth. As she began chewing, she moaned louder. “Oh my God, Logan.”
I beamed with pride. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.”
“You’d have no dollars, and no cents,” she mocked. “No. Seriously, you have to try this,” she said, but instead of getting a fork for me, she dived her hand into the cake, and shoved it into my face. “Isn’t that good?” She giggled like a five-year-old as I wiped chocolate from my eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Oh yeah. It’s so good. I bet you want more,” I said. Right as she went to dash, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me. With my free hand I scooped up cake and shoved it into her mouth. She squeaked.
“Logan! I can’t believe you,” she laughed, smearing her chin against my chin, rubbing it deeper into my slight five o’clock shadow. “It’s in my hair!”
“It’s in my nostrils!” I replied, shaking it from my face the best I could, laughing at the sound of her laughs.
We kept snickering for a while until the moment passed. My hand was still wrapped around her, and when our sounds ceased, our heartbeats increased.
I’m falling in love with you.
My mind was so flooded from missing Alyssa for all those years, that I almost forgot why I had to miss her. Because loving me is dangerous. Change the subject.
I took a step backward, releasing my grip on her. “Alyssa.”
“Yeah?”
“You have a guitar in your bedroom, do you play?”
She wavered back and forth with her hands. “Kind of. It helps keep me creative. I’m okay at it, nowhere near as good as I am with the piano.”
“Kellan’s been unable to play. His hands are shaky, and he sometimes forgets his own lyrics. I can tell it’s eating him up.”
She frowned. “I can only imagine what that’s like. Being unable to do what you love.”
“Yeah. I was wondering, I know you said you’re not great at playing, but can you teach me? Can you teach me whatever you can so I can maybe play for him?”
“There it is again.” She breathed out a small sigh.
“There what is?”
“The small glimpse of the boy I used to love.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Logan
The next week, I brought Alyssa with me as I sat in Jacob’s restaurant for my final examination of food. Seeing how she was my inspiration behind the dish, it felt right that she’d be the one sitting beside me as Jacob told me to piss off and find a new line of work. Crisp-Tender Roast Duck with a raspberry-rosemary sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes dressed with olive oil and seasonings, and garlic Brussel sprouts.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at Jacob make the same mundane facial expression as he chewed. Alyssa’s foot tapped nervously beside me and she chewed on her shirt collar, which made me smile. I didn’t know who was more worried about the duck not meeting Jacob’s standards—Alyssa or me.
“You have to dip the duck into the sauce!” Alyssa chimed in before going back to chewing on her shirt. “Oh! And the Brussel sprouts. Dip the Brussel sprouts in the raspberry sauce, too!”
He did as she said, and I cringed watching. He placed his fork down, sat back in the booth and a small smile graced his lips. “Well, fuck me sideways, that’s good.”
A bit of confidence found me. “Yeah?”
“No. Like—it’s good. Like out of the world, best-thing-I’ve-ever-eaten-good.” He went back to spooning more into his mouth. “Holy shit. Whatever you did to this dish, I want you to do to my menu each and every day you come into work.”
“So… I got the job?”
“Keep cooking like that and you can have the whole restaurant,” he laughed. Then he grew serious, pointing a finger at me. “That was a joke. The restaurant isn’t for sale.”
I laughed. “Well, the job is good enough for now.”
Pride filled me up inside, and I almost burst. Alyssa was beaming from left to right as she reached out, tossing her hands around me. “I knew it!” she whispered against my ear. “I knew you could do it.”
I breathed in her peach shampoo.
“All right, children, break it up. Go out and celebrate tonight. Logan, you start on Monday.”
We all stood up and Jacob went for a handshake, but I scooped him up into a bear hug and spun him around in circles before kissing his forehead. “Thanks, Jacob.”
“Anytime, friend.”
As Alyssa and I went to leave, I paused. “Oh yeah, Jacob, wait.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with the recipe for my hair mask.
