The Summer That Changed Everything

Chapter Four - Part Two

Shaking her head to clear those negative thoughts, Felicity’s determination to conquer the culinary challenge was unwavering. Her focus shifted to the pan on the adjacent hob. Spaghetti was the intended inhabitant of the pan, though you wouldn’t be able to tell. Bubbles flowed over the lid and cascaded onto the surface below, like a white, sudsy volcano. Felicity screeched and turned down the heat again, but this time for the other hob. She picked up the lid, swore and dropped it as soon as the hot metal touched her fingertips.

“Everything going okay in there?” Came Jared’s concerned voice from the living room, upon hearing all of Felicity’s cries. His voice was filled with genuine concern, a testament to his caring nature.

Jared headed straight for the dining room once he entered the house, excited for food. But Felicity soon urged him to the sofa in the living room. She wanted it to be a casual affair so there would be no pressure on her. They could put on a film neither of them had seen. Surely that would distract them from the inevitably terrible food.

“Just peachy!” She replied, though she felt the opposite, and she knew her voice had betrayed her. She turned the faucet on and stuck her fingers under the blasting water. Wincing, she hoped her fingerprints remained intact once all of this was over. Her self-doubt was palpable, adding a layer of vulnerability to her character. She didn’t like being vulnerable.

“Would you like some help?” He called back.

“Nope, I’m fine!” She replied. Of course, she would’ve loved the help, but she needed to do this by herself. Jared wouldn’t be at university with her, though now she wondered if she could sneak him in her suitcase so he could cook for her.

Felicity took a step back, and - using the back of her wrist - she wiped a bit of sweat off her sticky forehead. With her hands on her hips, she assessed the situation, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. Things were a disaster. There was no two ways about it. But it couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Sighing once more, she settled for turning the hobs off completely. She had no choice but to serve it.

“Okay, I must warn you now. I’m not a natural chef,” Felicity said as she entered the room. She placed two plates on the table. Sat atop those plates was what Felicity could only describe as sludge.

“Ah, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jared dismissed, sitting forward on the chair.

Jared looked at the plate in front of him. Looked at Felicity. Looked back at the plate. Then he looked back at Felicity.

“Let’s order pizza,” they said at the same time.

***

“I can’t believe you couldn’t cook Spaghetti Bolognese! ‘I’m not a natural chef.’ What a gross overstatement!” Jared laughed, mocking her, and sliding a piece of pizza into his mouth. “Spaghetti is so easy to make!”

“Oh, shush, it’s more difficult than it looks,” Felicity defended, taking her own slice of pizza.

Felicity adjusted her legs on the spot on the floor, winding them under her backside. When the pizza arrived, Felicity insisted on paying for it. She explained she was the one who made him come over, and then she tried to serve him the awful food. Of course, she had to pay. Jared found it challenging to argue with that logic, so he let her pay against his initial better judgment. Besides, they both knew she was in a better position to afford it. Her parents wouldn’t even notice the pizzas being charged to their bank account.

They had ignored the sofas and placed the pizza box on the coffee table in the centre of the living room. Both of them perched on the floor cross-legged, with only the lamp and the blaring television for light.

“It really isn’t, and now I’m worried about you. How are you going to survive at uni when you can’t cook a basic meal?” Jared asked.

She shrugged. “Order takeaway, probably.”

“Healthy,” was Jared’s sarcastic reply. “And, of course, cost-effective. What are you doing for uni, anyway? Where are you going? Layla tells me nothing.”

Felicity chuckled and chewed on her pizza crust, thinking. “I’m heading to Durham in September to study English Lit.”

“Ah, nice! I should’ve guessed! You love reading, don’t you? What a perfect degree for you.”

“Heh,” she let out a mirthless breath, but she was pleased he had remembered that piece of information about her. But her sarcasm outweighed her pleasure. “At least you think so. My parents do not.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents would much rather I follow James to Oxford and study business with him,” she sighed. She barely stumbled over James’ name this time. Whether she was slowly getting over it or was too busy, fuelled by her parents’ disappointment to care, she wasn’t sure.

“And you don’t want that?”

“I’ve expressed no intention of doing a business degree. It pained my parents to know that I was less than enthusiastic about taking over the family business. Which they have primed me to do all my life. And besides, I would never get into Oxford, even if I wanted to. So, I guess doing this English Lit degree is my way of sort of rebelling against my parents. I’m doing something for myself at last.”

Jared smiled and held out a slice of his pizza in front of Felicity. “To rebellion.”

“To rebellion.” Felicity giggled.

With that, Felicity met his pizza slice of her own with a smile. They clinked them together in their own makeshift toast.

“What about you?” She asked. “You’ve never really expressed wanting to do anything specific as a degree or job. Not that I’ve noticed, anyway.”

“I know,” he shrugged, averting his gaze from her. “I don’t have a plan, to be honest. Uni wouldn’t really be my thing, I don’t think, so I’m not going. I’m not putting myself through that. Besides, I’d rather just float around and go where the wind takes me.”