The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII
The Rules

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Mac and cheese sang the words to my soul. The taste. The smell. The feeling of the fork gliding through the milky cheese before you squeezed slightly hard and plucked the macaroni out from the bowl...

Moisture built up in my mouth before I hastily resumed the making of my favourite, grown-up meal. Grown up was used very, very lightly.

Sometimes, it was scary. I was twenty-one—my birthday was on June 29 so I am still young—but most days, I felt like I was a teenager in an adults body. Especially when I was reminded that I was graduating from my undergrad in a few months. For heaven's sake, I still remember my high school graduation. Vividly. But now I have to be an adult? I don't even know how to do my taxes properly! Or how to have a mortgage!

But one thing that will never fail me is food. I love food. And cheese. Damn, I love cheese. Mac and cheese.

I smiled to myself before focusing on the task at hand; making my homemade mac and cheese. I finally was able to sit down—metaphorically—and make my own meal, instead of relying on boxed food. My last midterm had been yesterday, so for the time being, I'm free.

Excitingly enough, March began. I didn't necessarily hate winter, but I loved when the weather started to warm up. I loved the in-between between seasons. And right now, we were getting a taste of some warmth.

Peering inside the pot, I grinned when I saw the cheese perfectly melted. I quickly turned off the stove and slid the pot to the back burner before opening the upper cabinet and pulling out a bowl. In that same moment, my ears perched at the sound of a door opening.

When I realized it was coming from my right—in the direction of the narrow hallway—I stiffened. While my room was there, so was...

I heard soft feet pausing at the entrance to the open concept living room/kitchen/dining room combo.

With my shoulders pressed back, I slowly manoeuvred myself closer to the counter while keeping my back toward the newcomer. The silence allowed me to catch her breathing in sharply before she rounded the peninsula. In this moment, I cursed the rental gods for giving us a small kitchen.

I did my best to scoop as much food in my bowl as possible while I felt her moving around behind me. When I began to hover the lid over the pot, I heard a pair of feet making a scratching noise against the floorboard. I knew it was because of the house shoes she wore daily.

"Are you just going to ignore me? Not even say hi?" An irate voice said.

Forcing calm, positive thoughts in my head, I tightly smiled. "Hi, Valerie."

"Wow, that's so much better," she bit out before stopping next to me. I tried my best not to grit my teeth before tilting my head in her direction. In that moment, breathing felt harder.

Valerie wore a matching gym set that included an intricate sports bra and leggings with side pockets. It was a light sage green colour that complimented her clear, porcelain skin. When I turned my attention to her face, I couldn't help but notice the mixture of pain and frustration she wore—she typically did her best not to scrunch up her face too much, and yet, her brows were furrowed.

My gaze fell to her hair in realization that she dyed it again. It grew out to above her breasts, and instead of blonde highlights, she mixed it with a lighter brown.

"Thea," she said in exasperation. I flickered my gaze to her slightly hooded, emerald green eyes. "Can we please talk? I know you're still mad, but I never meant to hurt you—"