Sweet Dandelion

“What do you mean?”

“I wish I was as strong as you,” is all he says, before grabbing his coffee and walking down the hall to his bedroom.

Chapter Twenty

“We are not good at this, like at all.” I look down at the explosion of ingredients everywhere; the liquid spilled on the counters, flour that somehow ended up on the ceiling, and a dish that looks edible but not presentable which was half the goal.

“Let’s try it.”

I cut a bite of Parmesan chicken and put it in my mouth hesitantly, doubtful that Sage and I could make anything taste edible.

“Oh, that’s good,” I admit, closing my eyes as the flavor explodes over my tongue.

“We did a good job, D.” Sage is all smiles, genuine smiles, and it makes my heart happy to see him enjoying something so simple as making a decent meal with me.

I try the garlic-roasted potatoes next and nearly melt on the floor from the sheer delectableness of them.

“Hey,” I begin around a mouthful, “I think this means we can cook.”

Sage chuckles. “Yeah, with instructions and help from them.” He points his fork at our two teachers who are checking up on some of the other groups of people. It’s mostly young couples madly in love or families who are trying to get their kids involved in the kitchen.

“That’s true.” I feel sad about it, because I could eat this every day.

We eat our dish and box up the leftovers, saying goodbye before we head out.

“Is there anything else you want to do today?” Sage asks, climbing in his Nissan Maxima.

I shake my head. “I kind of want to have a lazy day. Just go home and get in my pajamas and vegetate.”

His laughter fills the car and makes me smile. It’s good to hear. “That sounds pretty fucking amazing to me. I need all the rest I can get.”

I want to talk to him about quitting again, I know he could and be fine temporarily until he gets something else, but he’s stubborn and will never listen so I keep my mouth shut for now.

Sage parks in the garage beneath the building and we take the elevator up.

“Want to watch a movie?” He tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter, shrugging out of his lightweight jacket.

“I’m actually going to paint my nails and start a new book.”

“Still reading?” He quirks a brow, clearly surprised.

“I’m starting to love it.”

“Good for you. There’s a library two blocks away if you ever wanted to go.”

“Oh, okay, that’s good to know.” I doubt I’ll be using it as long as Lachlan continues to lend me his favorite books, but you never know.

Reaching my room, I kick off my shoes and change into a pair of green lounge pants and a black tank top. I put some music on and pick out a new nail polish color, choosing a minty green called Vintage. I don’t really understand how Vintage relates to mint green. Like wouldn’t EncourgeMint Green have been better? But the nail polish was a gift, so I can’t except everyone to pick them based on names like I do.

> Sitting on the floor I paint my nails carefully, making sure I don’t get any on my skin. It’s the perfectionist in me. I let them dry before standing up. My leg has gone numb by the time I do and I hobble over to my bed.

Stretching out, I curl under the blankets, grabbing the book from beside my bed. Lying on my side, I open it up and begin to read.

Finishing the book in record time, I toss it aside, outraged at the cliffhanger ending. I need to know what happens next, whether or not Icarus actually killed Lizzie or not. Picking it back up, I storm out of my room.

“Where are you going?” Sage sits up on the couch looking concerned.

“I need the second book,” I grumble, shoving my feet into a pair of my shoes by the door.