FINN
I enter Zander’s apartment, hiding my surprise when I see Alex cooking. The pungent smell of vinegar assaults my nose.
“Alex is cooking?!” I ask Zander who shrugs. He is propped comfortably on the mattress, scrolling through his phone.
Alex turns his head, then waves with a poker face. That’s strangely familiar.
“You’re cooking Adobo?” I ask as I put the plastic bag on the dining table. Dad made pad thai for the three of us.
I sit on the beanbag chair. “It’s nice seeing you two bonding.”
Zander smiles cutely and reaches for his laptop. It’s strange to see him so carefree around Alex. But I’m not complaining. Alex focuses on cooking, and I try not to be too excited seeing him in an apron.
“What are you doing?” I ask Zander whose eyes are glued on the screen, tongue poking throug
