Unnamed

EIGHT – maybe i knew i did know what i wanted

Unlike the rest of the house, kitchen had LED bulbs for brightness. I squinted in the sudden glow as I entered the kitchen and went straight to the shelves where the food was stored. To my shock, there was nothing in there but a pack of chow mien and Nutella.

"You don't have anything except this." I told Dylan who had just entered the kitchen. His expression mirrored my surprise and then huffed harshly.

"I must have something in the pantry," he told moving around the bar and opened the small door to an even smaller pantry. A bag of flour fell upon him as soon as he opened it, that he caught reflexively without any trouble. "Eh, only flour here." He sheepishly told setting it on the counter. Our eyes met across the bar with the same question. What're we gonna eat, today?

"No need to panic," I tried to handle the situation like a rational person I was. "We still have the refrigerator." I pointed with an optimistic smile.

Dylan perked up quickly, nodding with a strained smile that dropped as soon as I opened the refrigerator and it was... empty except for a small crate of eggs. I took it out and set it with the other ingredients on the bar. So all we had was a bag of flour, chow mien, three eggs, and Nutella.

"I don't know how it slipped from your mind that your kitchen is practically empty and you need to go to shopping." I questioned as calmly as I could. When he knew he had nothing then why did he even disturb me in the first place?

"I thought there would be something in the pantry," he confessed like a small guilty child.

"Well, there's nothing, is there? Anyway, why don't you go and get something from a*****e?" I suggested since it was the twenty-first century and it was hard to run out of the options.

"I don't have money-"

"Yeah, I can under- wait, what? Ha, very funny. You almost got me there. Nice joke. Now you can leave."

"I am not joking," he said in a serious tone as he grabbed a stool and sat on it.

"Is it your way of starving me?"

"No," he scowled, poking the flour bag with his finger, "God, you're so irritating. That's why I don't like you. When I say I don't have money, I mean it."

"Oh!" I exclaimed like a fool. Seriously, what should I say in a situation like this? I meant I knew what I wanted to say but I was sure he wouldn't like to hear, Oh, that's why you kidnapped me. Now it is all clear. Don't worry. You can still let me go and I won't tell the police. Not only that, I will keep sending you money from my saving account every month. We'll not have to see each other of anymore. What say? "I am not irritating." Instead, I snapped at him, throwing the pack of chow mien at his face.

"Way to prove a point."

"But how come that you have no money?" I asked sympathetically as I sat beside him on another stool. "You seem so rich. I mean you have your own mansion."

I sighed. He brushed a hand in his hair, ruffling it a bit. I noticed he did that a lot when he was nervous. "My parents have money, not me. We are not on best terms unlike your dad and you."

"Will you please stop with your prejudice?"

"Sorry." Not that he meant that.

"Whatever. So you don't use their money?" That explained quite a few things. Like, why he lived here instead of the mansion, his old pickup truck instead of the Jaguar like Luke had.

"No. I earn my own," he sighed once more. He didn't tell what he did though. That was another secret of him, I guessed. "You can have dinner at the mansion. I'll call Luke to inform-"

"What about you?" I asked worriedly. A part of me told me that I should not care about him since he ate breakfast and didn't bother to save some for me but I couldn't help it. Something told me that he would not be eating with them.

"I am good." He brushed it off nonchalantly as he pressed his cell phone to his ears.

"No, you're not." I snatched the phone from his hands and canceled the call.

"Fay!" He growled, lunging toward me but I jumped away from him.

"I don't want to go to the mansion." I insisted, surprising us both. "I mean, we can make something out of it." I told gesturing toward the ingredients on the table.

He gave me a dry look. "Give me the phone back."

"Okay but don't call them yet. Let us try first. If we fail then we call."

"Fay, it's not the time for your childish antics." He tried to reason with me exasperatedly.

I walked over in front of him and held his both hands in mine. It was an unconscious act out of impulse but I couldn't help but notice how warm his hands were in comparison to my cold ones and how I couldn't cover up his entire hand in my one hand. For some unknown reason, it felt very comforting and nice in a weird way, as strange as it sounded. "Please, Dylan. Please?" I requested giving his hands small tugs.

"I can't believe I am going to do this," he muttered under his breath but I heard nonetheless. "Fine! I'll help."

"Yay!" I squealed, giving him a quick hug before pulling him behind toward the island. I really did feel bad that he was poor when he could have money. I knew what he felt like to have sucky parents. I didn't know what kind of dysfunction was in his family but I knew what it felt like to be left out around your own family.

Maybe whatever I was trying to do was out of sympathy but that didn't matter. I would have given anything for someone to be this nice to me when days were not nice at all.

Dylan might act like a jerk more than most of the time but he did let me sleep on his bed and made sure that I had everything I needed from clothes to anything I asked. I was grateful before despite his verbal assault but now I appreciated them even more when I knew he did that even when he had less or no money.

"Okay, let's see what we have here." I rubbed my hands together as I assessed each item. "Chow mien is out because we don't have sauce unless you want to eat it boiled with salt. Do you?" I asked Dylan in case he wanted. Who knew?

"Nope." he grimaced at the thought of it. He stood beside me after washing his hands. "Fay, I can still call them. You don't have to do it."

"But I want to do it because we are... eh, mates?" I suggested, inwardly cringing at how absurd that sounded. The same expression of panic from morning crossed Dylan's face. "I mean, that's what you Australian call a friend. We don't have to be friends, all right? We can be, well... er, strangers. Yeah, that sounds good..." I blabbered thinking I had messed up again. I didn't want another life hazarding threat right now.

"Friends?" he breathed out in confusion. "Yeah, right. Mate is a friend." He cleared his throat, "And we can't be friends." He ordered.

"Jeez, I am not that desperate." I countered back.

An awkward silence settled between us as I tried to figure out our dinner and he- well, I had no idea. He was scrutinizing the innocent jar of Nutella with his I-know-it-all look.

Oh okay.

"I know what we're gonna eat today," I announced excitedly. I picked up the Nutella and eggs and put everything else away. Now all I needed was, "Do you have sugar?"

"Would brown do?" he asked opening a cabinet and taking a glass container out of it.

“Eh, nevermind.”

"What are you going to make?" he asked as he pushed me back when I tried to lift the flour bag and picked it up instead. "Where do you want it?"

"Back in the pantry, please." I pointed toward the door. I took out a cup and set it on the counter with other things. "I am making- well, I don't know. Paz, our housekeeper, used to make so many crazy things but they always turned out tasty except for when she made pancakes for dad with Red Bull in it. My dad literally flew away to Spain and returned after two weeks," A smile stretched on my face at her memory. "She was so nice. When dad wasn't home, she would always stay with me. I never felt alone or sad with her. I didn't feel like I need anyone else when she was around. She-" I choked on something between a laugh and a sob. My throat constricted and a burning in my nose made me aware that how close to tear I was. She would sneak me out from the house when dad wasn't around and we never were caught under her watch. She was an angel and like every good in my life, she was gone. "Nothing." I shook my head at my silly emotional state and looked up at Dylan.

The expression on his face caught me off guard. I didn't even dare to comprehend it because it wasn't even possible. I tried to control my quickened breath and accelerated heart and tore my eyes away from his face.

"She had made this once." I mumbled turning around so that I could hide my flushed face from his examining eyes. I cracked the eggs and separated the yolk and egg white in different bowls that he had passed me. I was hyper aware of Dylan looming just behind me but I didn't give in to the urge to turn around and ask him why he was acting this strangely.

"Nutella." I asked. Instead of handing it to me, he came around and dumped two spoonfuls into the bowl containing yolks.

In an almost comfortable silence, I whipped the Nutella and yolk together while he did the same with the egg white. When we were ready to go, we combined both ingredients in two shifts. After mixing the final batter, I put it in the over for fifteen minutes.

"It's done." I took out the what supposed to be chocolate Soufflé.

"That's it?" he tried to look eager for my sake but I could see through his façade just clearly.

"No need to fake it." I glared at him for insulting my cute little food.

"Okay! That's it?" he said in a tone that was edging towards wariness.

I knew what he meant. That's what I had said when Paz had cooked it for the first time. A brown deformed lump doesn't look very appetizing.

"Not yet but it's almost done. You can sit now and watch me." I put the bowl on the bar along with flavored cream he had fished out from somewhere.

The cream was of orange flavor. I emptied a generous portion over the top of the cake and let it spread by itself. It looked so cool that I couldn't help but feel all giddy and woozy with happiness. Paz would have been so proud of me. From time to time, I would peek at Dylan and he'd be already watching me work with a barely noticeable smile. I didn't know what to make out of it, his hot and cold behavior, I mean. He said something, did something else. Despite all his threat, he never hurt me physically. I was yet not ready to say that words mean nothing.

"Do you want some?" I asked, originally Paz had not put anything else in it but what would we lose in trying it?

He shrugged his shoulder in a whatever manner. I decided to put it, anyway. "It's ready to eat now." I said cutting out a piece and serving on a plate for him.

He analyzed it like a critique, making some serious faces while humming here and there. I bit my lip while crossing my fingers as he put a small piece of it in his mouth.

Looking at his stoic expression, for a moment I thought he was gonna puke it out. It couldn't be that bad. But then he gave me a half grin as he cut out a bigger piece this time and popped it in his mouth. He needed not to say anything; the way he was cleaning the plate told it all. I helped myself with a big piece and it sure was good. Maybe because I was hungry, it made it a little more appealing but even then, I knew that it was nothing compared to Paz's cooking.

"That was very smart and productive."

I think that was the first time Dylan had genuinely complimented me and it did weird things to my stomach. I almost forgot how nice it felt to receive praise for your efforts despite the result.

"Thank you." I replied with an almost shy smile.

He took it upon himself to wash the plates while I put the left ingredients back at their respective places. I had saved some for Hailey and Basil if they decided to drop by in the morning.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked Dylan when we were done with our chores and sat in the living room. Dylan had turned off all the lights and an old reel of some Charlie Chaplin movie was playing on the projector.

He shifted on the couch so that he was facing me rather than the screen. "Yeah."

I took a deep breath before I started. "I don't know why you have brought me here. I can only guess but only you can give me answer," Surprisingly, he didn't launch onto me at the mention of that forbidden topic. He listened with a patient look in his eyes, so I continued not as nervous as before. "I don't know why you want to keep it a secret from everyone that you paint. I don't know what the deal between your parents and you is. I don't know anything at all, actually. I have decided that I am not going to ask you a single question about any of the aforementioned topics or anything you do. You don't have to worry about threatening me over that. I won't bother you if you promise to do the same. You can keep me here without answering to anything and keep all your secrets but you also won't pry my own secrets. When I won't want to tell you something, you'd leave it alone or I am going to tell them all about it."

Dylan was shocked to say at least. I was sure he had never guessed that this day would come to this end. He seemed conflicted as if he wanted to know about that nightmare from weeks ago but still thought that my deal was reasonable. Then he was angry. His jaw was clenched and a vein was popping on his neck. It went as quick as it came. Lastly, he nodded in resignation.

"That's only fair."

I wanted to know what happened around me. I frustrated me to no end when I was kept in dark, especially if it was related to me in any way. But before I found new things, I needed to hide the old ones in past.