Chapter 14: Quagmire of Epic Proportions

Maya's POV:

"Hey Chase, why'd you want me to stay behind?" I ask him, if only to hear the answer.

He shrugs. "Kai seemed to have some tension with Claire, and I think it'd be best for them to clear it up before school starts, you know?"

"Oh, right."

So here's the truth, the cold hard truth straight from the mind of a teenage girl travelling around Paris with a cute guy paying for her pastries.

I don't like him.

And everyone can just go on ahead and accept that. I don't!

"Plus, I'd feel bad if I left you all by yourself with someone you didn't know very well," he adds on.

"I don't know you very well," I challenge.

He smiles. "True, but we're getting there, I think," he says. "So, 20 questions."

"Seriously? 20 questions in a hospital?"

"There's no time like the present!"

"Ok, you go first then," I say.

"Perfect! What's your favourite food?"

"Oh my God Chase you MUST hate me! Uhm…grilled yam? No! Sweet Potato cake! NO! Yam rice? Herb fish? Sushi? CHEESE?! But you know, it has to be…delicious!"

"Ok," Chase laughs. "When's your birthday?"

"I was born in the fall, the 24th of October."

"Who did you live with before you came here?"

"Why are you asking this, you practically lived beside me?"

"Still, answer the question while I think of a better one!"

"Fine," I say, laughing. "I lived in the Inn with my mom Colleen, and my father Jake. Yolanda, my grandma, took you in."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"None."

"So, were you a spoiled little brat?"

My mouth drops open. "Does it look like I was spoiled? I mean, I can't actually COOK!"

"But you've been able to eat a lot of really awesome food! Plus you probably can't cook because your parents do it for you!"

"NOT TRUE! I don't know how to cook because I never got the chance to until I was older! Nobody actually trusts me enough to let me cook anyway so how was I supposed to fix it?"

"What got you so interested in food?"

"I don't know," I say. "It just…brings people together. My mom and dad run an Inn, they aren't always available. And sometimes they fight, like all couples. But food, it brings us together somehow. We don't have to worry about being separated or anything. We can be a real family when we eat you know?"

He nods. "Ok, my turn. What's your family like?"

"Well, I…my family is..." he pauses, thinking over his answer. "My family is normal. We just…don't stay in touch very often anymore."

"Oh come on, what family is 'normal'?" I ask him.

"Mine," he says shyly.

"Come on, I answered your questions!"

"It's not like I asked you 20," he says.

"But you asked me a couple, and now I'm asking you!" I say.

"Well hold on, I didn't ask you any hard ones!" he says.

"Fine! Go on!"

"Boyfriends?" he asks, not looking at me.

I burst out laughing.

Smooth.

OK, let's get one thing straight; I am a girl, who's lived with her parents, in a little Inn, working FOR her parents, most of the time in uniform because my hours SUCK. How many boyfriends do you think I can get?!

"That'll be $7.50," I say, a daring glint in my eye as I take in the stranger's chiselled features.

"Here's 10, keep the change, I'm on the road," he says.

I put in the order and turn back to him, my long blonde hair flipping in the wind of the fan. "Where are you headed?"

"Sometimes, travellers are best to not talk about their destinations. It's not always the endpoint that matters, really, mostly the journey."

So he was hot and smart? It was a good thing there was only one Inn in this town.

"Think you could make a quick pit-stop? This little town will be lonely without you," I say, twirling a curl of long blonde hair in my finger.

"Pit-stop? With food like this, I'll never want to leave," he winks, taking the dish out of my hand.

We share a dinner under the candlelight, and the stranger tells me all about himself and his voyage. Then, we fall in love, and I persuade him to stay with me. Of course, he tells me the only way we can stay united forever is marriage. We get married, and people throw rice at us. It's a glorious beautiful day, and all is well in the world.

"Uhm…hello?" Chase asks.

I snap out of my daydream. "Chase…I live in Waffle Town. My supply of 'boyfriends' would have to come from people who knew me. And the people, who knew me, knew that I was a complete weirdo. So, no, I've never in my life dated a boy."

"Whoa," he says. "Me neither."

"You've never dated a girl?!"

He laughs. "Of course I have. I've never in my life dated a boy, just like you."

"Wow, look at all we have in common," I say, rolling my eyes.

Claire and Kai come in for their shifts and we walk back to the dorms. Just before that, Chase pulls me into a grocery store.

"Ready to become my little science project?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I'd never seen Chase so…alive before. He'd always seemed quiet, what was going on here?

"Of course Master Chase," I say dutifully, bowing. "What are we doing exactly?"

"I am going to teach you how to cook the most amazing, shining, green herb dish!" he says triumphantly.

"What do I have to do for you then?"

"Don't burn down the kitchen," he says, winking. We grab a shopping cart. "First thing's first, let's get the ingredients!"

"Okay, we need herbs, fish, cooking oil, a cutting board," I say, listing off ingredients as I go along.

"You're good at this," he says, laughing.

"I run a food blog and a cooking show, what did you think?!"

"Hey, I just forget, since you can't actually cook," he says snarkily.

"Oh yea, just like I forget you have a heart since you never actually use it," I respond.

We both laugh at each other and start picking out the right herbs, and the best fish. Finally, our hands loaded with bags, we make our way to the kitchen area back at the dorms. I see the room clear out as soon as they lay eyes on me.

"Good, I was hoping they'd leave," Chase says.

Had he?

"Why?" I ask.

"So that we have this room to ourselves! I don't want random people peering over my shoulder asking me questions. If anyone, I'll have it be my science experiment! Either way, you'll be cooking this one."

"Okay, what's first?"

I begin cooking at Chase's instruction. I cut up the herbs, the fish, marinate them, sauté them, and cook everything up. It's not a long process but Chase triple checks everything. I understand it, I mean, I am a world-class failure, but it still kind of stings.

We pull the dish out of the oven and stare at it for a moment. It looks ok, but looks can be deceiving, especially with my food.

"So who takes the first bite?" he asks, staring at the dish.

"It has to be one, but not the other, that way, if one of us gets sick or something, the other can…get them water and nurse them back to life."

"Well, it's my science project, so I'll taste it. But first, take a picture of the dish, and record me eating it," he says, pulling out his phone and scrolling to the camera.

"Someone takes this science stuff seriously," I say, rolling my eyes.

He laughs. I snap a couple photos and start the recording. Chase edges the spoon in his mouth.

"It's not-," he begins, but then his eyes bulge out and he's running over to the sink. I jump up, grabbing the water like I said I would and he gulps it down, and then asks for more. We continue like this until the taste is finally off of his tongue.

With all the action dying down, I quickly pick up the dish and throw it into the garbage.

"It's no use," I say pathetically. "I can't cook; I'll never be able to cook. No matter what my parents say about raising a family, or finding a husband, I won't be able to do it either. I guess I was just made for Ramen Noodles."

I run out of the kitchen before Chase can say anything. Hurriedly, I go upstairs and lock the door behind me as I throw myself on the bed and curl up into a ball to watch anime, tears silently spreading across my pillow.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have possibly thought that anything I made would be good? Why did I even like cooking? What was the point of liking something or trying to do something that you knew would fail in the end? I was only setting myself up for failure.

That night, after being humiliated for the last time in front of someone who was an expert, I decided.

I'm not ever going to do anything with cooking again.