Teenage Millionaire

Chapter 25: Truth

***WARNING: MOOD SWINGS***

While last night he was playing Mario Kart for entertainment and excitement, it seems to be more calming for him today. Maybe a confidence boost, or maybe just the familiarity is nice, but by the time we finish, it's clear to me that this was different.

We cycle around the basement: he has a lot of stuff down here. There are a few other TV's: one is mounted on the wall near the pool table and foosball table, one near a bunch of workout equipment, one in this home theatre area which looks more like a theatre than something in a home, one by two armchairs with a small coffee table in between them...

We wander around, doing various things- shooting pool, playing shuffleboard, reading (he has a small but very well-stocked library. It's the best thing I've ever seen), et. cetera. There's also a pool (which is probably the second best thing I've ever seen- it's a small pool, but it's very cool-looking) but we don't swim. Which is fair, honestly, since then we'd have to shower to wash off the chlorine and that seems like more work than it's worth, right now.

We go up for lunch a little after noon. His parents aren't there (I wonder if they work, or if they consider it unnecessary?) so it's up to us to make lunch for ourselves.

"You like grilled cheese sandwiches?" he asks me as he looks in the fridge.

"Yeah." I grin at the fact that he's so rich and still eats things as simple as grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. He glances at me and smiles a little when he sees my grin.

"Good. Come."

I go over to him, and he gives me a block of cheese and a grater, so I start grating the cheese while he turns on the stove. Once I've finished with the cheese, I turn to ask him what to do next and find him frying bacon. I smile to myself, remembering his dad's story last night. He glances at me over his shoulder to see me watching him and smirks a little- the first time today that I've seen his usual smirk.

"Wanna butter the bread?"

"Sure."

"Bread's there, butter's there."

I go to the breadbasket and grab four pieces of bread, then get the butter dish and start buttering bread. A few minutes later, a plate with slices of bacon appears on the counter. He takes a buttered piece of bread and lays it in the same pan, puts a pile of grated cheese on it, puts some bacon on top of that, followed by another piece of buttered bread. He repeats this pattern with the rest of the ingredients, then moves back to the stovetop. I watch as he flips them with precision, getting both sides of both sandwiches to a perfect golden brown. My mouth is watering from the smell at this point- though, it is mostly bacon and butter.

After he takes the pan off the burner and turns off the stove, he produces two plates and slides one sandwich onto each, then cuts them each diagonally. He takes one and I take the other, then go around the counter to sit.

It's probably the best grilled cheese I've ever had.

The ratio of bread: cheese: bacon is perfect. The bread is crunchy but not burnt, the cheese is melty, and the bacon is crispy. It's incredible. I never thought a grilled cheese could be this good.

"Good?" he asks, after a few bites.

"So good. The best."

He studies me for a moment. "Really?"

I nod, holding his gaze. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

He's smiling a little, now. "My dad taught me."