In Love with my room-mate

Cooking Attempt

It's Saturday morning, and after the confrontation with Jay last night, I haven't seen him at all. I am determined to make the best of this weekend.

In the kitchen, the morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the appliances and utensils that I am now eyeing with uncertainty. The confrontation with Jay last night still weighs on my mind, and the atmosphere in the apartment feels a bit tense. But I am determined not to let it ruin my weekend. I tell myself that I can make the best of this situation and maybe even learn something new in the process.

As I stand there, I can't help but acknowledge that cooking has never been my forte. Back home, my culinary skills were limited, and I often relied on takeout or pre-packaged meals. But living on my own in this shared apartment has taught me the importance of self-sufficiency, and I don't want to be completely dependent on Jay or anyone else for my basic needs.

Taking a deep breath, I push aside my doubts and remind myself that I can handle this. I decide to start with something simple, toast and scrambled eggs. How hard can it be, right?

I open the cabinets, hoping to find some bread, and luckily, I spot a loaf tucked away in the corner. I take a couple of slices and carefully place them in the toaster. The familiar "click" as the lever goes down brings a sense of reassurance, knowing that at least this part should be easy.

Now, onto the eggs. I grab a small bowl, recalling the image of Martha gracefully whisking eggs for breakfast back home. I crack a couple of eggs into the bowl and attempt to mimic her actions with a fork. However, my motions feel awkward and uncoordinated. The eggs don't seem to be frothing as they should, and I wonder if I am doing something wrong.

For a moment, I consider calling Martha for guidance, but I quickly shake off the idea. No, I need to figure this out on my own. It's all part of the learning process, right?

Determined to soldier on, I decide that even if the eggs aren't perfectly frothy, they should still be edible. I position a pan on the stove, wondering if I should use oil or butter to prevent sticking. Feeling a bit adventurous, I opt for butter. The comforting scent fills the kitchen as it begins to melt, and I cautiously pour the beaten eggs into the pan.

As I watch the eggs slowly cook, I remind myself that it's okay to make mistakes. I am not aiming to become a master chef overnight. I am simply trying to be self-sufficient and learn a new skill along the way.

Finally, the toaster pops, but to my dismay, the toast is still barely toasted. Frustration bubbles up inside me, and without thinking, I push the lever back down, hoping for a better result. As I rush to attend to the eggs, which are just starting to take on a light golden hue in the pan, I can't help but feel the pressure building up. I need to get this breakfast right.

Just as I turn my attention back to the toaster, a loud "pop" echoes through the kitchen, making me jump. This time, it's beyond what I wanted, the toast is not just golden brown, it's all burnt and emitting an acrid smell that fills the air.

"Noo!!" I exclaim, feeling a mix of disappointment and embarrassment. My attempt at breakfast seems to be spiralling out of control. I quickly retrieve the now-charred toast and set it on a plate, trying to salvage whatever I can.

"What is that smell?" I hear Jay's voice from behind me, and my heart skips a beat. Oh no, I hadn't expected him to come out of his room so soon. I didn’t even know he was around.

With a sheepish smile, I turn to face Jay, hoping to hide the evidence of my cooking mishap behind my back.

"Oh, um, just a little kitchen mishap," I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, clearly not convinced by my response. "Were you trying to cook?" he asks, and I can sense a mix of amusement and concern in his voice.

I nod, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, just thought I should give it a try. Toast and scrambled eggs, you know," I say, trying to downplay the whole situation.

As Jay glances at the burnt toast on the plate and the slightly better but still imperfect scrambled eggs in the pan, I brace myself for a scolding or a sarcastic remark. However, to my surprise, he wears a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth. "Well, it looks like you have had quite the adventure," he says playfully, his tone light-hearted.

His response catches me off guard, and I can't help but laugh nervously. I feel a wave of relief washing over me, it's evident that Jay isn't here to judge or berate me.

"Yeah, it's been a bit challenging," I admit, setting the plate with the burnt toast down on the counter.

Seeming genuinely amused, Jay steps closer and leans against the kitchen island.

"Here, let me show you a trick with the toaster," he offers, reaching over and adjusting the settings. "And as for the eggs, a little practice, and you will get the hang of it," he adds, gesturing towards the pan while giving me a reassuring smile.

I watch attentively as Jay demonstrates the toaster's quirks and secrets, and I can't help but appreciate his willingness to help me improve my cooking skills. His patient guidance on whisking the eggs properly and cooking them to achieve that fluffy texture makes me feel a sense of encouragement. Despite the tense moment we shared last night, he is being kind and supportive, and I find myself feeling grateful for his understanding.

As Jay shares his kitchen wisdom, I feel a bond forming between us. Maybe this shared apartment situation won't be so bad after all. Perhaps we can learn from each other, support each other, and grow together as roommates and friends.

With Jay's guidance, I make another attempt at toasting the bread, and this time it comes out perfectly golden and crisp. The aroma fills the kitchen, and I can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The scrambled eggs, too, turn out much better under his patient instructions, making me realize that cooking isn't as daunting as I once thought.

We sit down by the counter, savouring the improved breakfast together. As we eat and chat, I notice the awkwardness from last night starting to dissipate. There's a newfound camaraderie between us, and it feels good to share this moment of triumph after my earlier mishap.

As I take a bite of the now delicious toast and eggs, I can't help but think that this morning has become a small but meaningful step in the right direction. Maybe living with Jay won't just be about occasional confrontations, it could also be an opportunity for personal growth and better cooking attempts on my end.

"So will you be able to teach me anything else... today?" I ask, trying to sound casual but feeling a twinge of nervousness.

Jay looks up from his phone and then just stares at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. I wonder if I am imposing on his time or if he's still bothered by our argument from last night.

"Don't you have other things to do today? You just want to cook?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and scepticism.

"I have nothing planned for the rest of the day. Maybe just watch some TV or read a book," I respond, trying to sound nonchalant even though I am secretly hoping he will agree to spend more time with me in the kitchen.

"Mmm, I see," he responds, offering little in the way of confirmation. It's hard to gauge whether he's genuinely considering it or just being polite.

"So...?" I ask, looking at him with hopeful eyes, hoping he'll take the hint.

He shrugs, still seeming uncertain. "We shall see," he says, leaving the possibility open without making any concrete commitments.

I take a deep breath, trying not to feel disappointed. At least he hasn't outright refused, so there's still a chance he might agree to show me a few more things in the kitchen. Maybe he just needs a little time to think about it.

“I am going to take a shower.” He says as he gets off his seat.

I can’t help but stare at his cute butt as he walks away.

Wait did I just think his butt is cute?