“You’re going to stir the pot?” I asked Ana.
She pushed a chair across the kitchen floor and toward the stove, hopped up onto it next to me, and snatched the spoon from my hand, stirring the chocolate inside the pot around and around and around.
I watched her intently, making sure she didn’t burn herself on the gas flames coming from the burner, and crossed my arms over chest.
Ana noticed me staring and shoved me back with her free hand. “I know how to make them, João. Let me do it by myself, or I’m going to tell your girlfriend that you’re a loser. Oh, wait, she already knows.”
“Actually, she thinks you’re a stinker,” I said, poking Ana in the side.
She doubled over and giggled, continuing to stir the pot of chocolate. I smiled in response, cherishing every moment that I had with her
