Chapter Two

It had been two days but it still shocked Brady every time he went into the living room to find Tanner asleep on the couch. It was a good surprise, though. One that sent a burst of excitement through Brady. Today was no different except for one thing: Tanner was in the kitchen making pancakes when Brady woke up.

"I didn't know you could cook," Brady said, stifling a yawn as he walked into the kitchen.

"I can't," Tanner admitted, setting down the bowl he was stirring and crossing his arms in defeat. "I've been trying to make these stupid pancakes for an hour and a half but I keep messing up."

Brady couldn't hold back a laugh as he studied the scene. There was flour all over the kitchen and Tanner was no exception. Flour streaked his hair and speckled his face. There was even some in his eyebrows.

Brady's laugh seemed to upset Tanner, who turned away from Brady. "I just wanted to do something nice for you to thank you for letting me stay here. I guess I just can't to anything. I'm useless."

"Hey," Brady said softly. "You're not useless."

"Yeah, right," Tanner scoffed. "I can't even make pancakes."

"That's not true," Brady argued, picking up a stray pancake. "This one looks just fine."

Brady bit into the pancake and nearly gagged. Tanner was right, he really couldn't make pancakes. Brady had tasted a lot of bad pancakes over the years but none of them had been as bad as these. He didn't think it was possible for pancakes to be this bad.

"It's really good," Brady lied, his eyes watering from the awful taste.

"Brady, I know they're terrible. You don't have to lie to me about it."

Brady sighed. "So you can't make pancakes. Who cares?"

"I care," Tanner whined. "Making pancakes should be simple. What kind of person am I if I can't do it?"

"Lots of people can't make pancakes," Brady assured him. "It doesn't make you a bad person. It just means you've never been taught how to make them."

Tanner didn't say anything, just looked at the floor defeatedly. Brady stepped closer to him and tilted his chin up so their eyes met. Brady's lips twitched into a smile as he wiped away a bit of flour on the other boy's nose.

"I'll teach you, okay?" Brady said. "I'll teach you how to make pancakes."

He wondered vaguely what Tanner's lips would feel like against his own. Then he wondered why he would wonder something like that. Brady dropped his hand from where it rested under Tanner's chin and took a step back.

Brady cleared his throat. "So, pancakes."

Twenty minutes later, Brady and Tanner sat across from each other with a large plate of pancakes in between them. They were locked in a match of reverse tug-of-war, each insisting that the other gets to eat them first.

"You should get to try them first," Brady insisted. "You made them."

"You helped me," Tanner argued. "It's not fair that I take all the credit."

"Fine," Brady replied. "We'll try them together."

Both of them picked up a pancake as Brady's stomach growled. They linked arms and bit into their pancakes, their arms pulling them close together. Brady tried hard to keep his thoughts from wandering to Tanner.

"These are really good," Brady said as Tanner nodded in agreement. The two boys unlinked their arms, much to Brady's disappointment.

"Thanks for helping me make them," Tanner said, heading back to the sink to wash the dishes.

"You don't have to do the dishes," Brady protested.

"I know," Tanner replied, winking. "But I want to."