City of Angels

3

3

The last way I expected to wake up to was with a loud late teenager shaking me and yelling right in my ear. I groaned, shoving him away and he tumbled backwards, hitting his body against the wall.

"Ouch." 

I rolled my eyes, stretching my back. For once, I didn't feel exhausted. Although I didn't feel completely energized, it was an improvement to how I'd been over the last few months. While mumbling to himself, Liam threw my duvet onto the floor so that I couldn't retrieve it and go back to sleep.

Then, he cleared his throat, "As I was saying last night Miley, you will not live here for free. You will help me around the house and earn your stay. Any objections?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to answer him. Obviously, he knew I wouldn't decline it because the idea of being booted out of my only chance of hope was just stupid. No one in their right mind would throw away something was precious as this.

"It seems fair," I faintly smiled. Surely, he wouldn't make me strain too much until my diet was back to a healthy one. Plus, his house wasn't messy or anything either, right?

"Good, get dressed, and get your chef’s hat on," he instructed playfully, "I'll meet you downstairs and after we've eaten, I'll assign you to your task for today." I nodded knowingly, watching as he raced backwards and forwards as he spoke, stroking his chin in thought.

And just like that, he left the room.

I leapt onto my feet, noticing some clothes on the wooden bureau. With both hands, I picked them up and discovered that they were girls' clothes. Weird. I wondered whether Liam had them locked away in his house or he had gone of his way to buy them for me. Nevertheless, I was grateful that I didn't have to wear overly sized stuff or ripped garments anymore. Quickly, I threw yesterday's outfit under the bed and changed into the new stuff he had prepared for me. It was weird because somehow he'd bought underwear that was my size but I didn't want to know how he knew (nor did I want to).

After that, as I opened the door and allowed the smell of pancakes to invade my nostrils. Eagerly, I followed the aroma and found Liam with a frying pan in one of his hands. He tossed a disc into the air effortlessly and caught it like a professional.

"Hey Miley."

Naturally, I crossed my arms, "Hey Liam." I watched as his arms tensed while he flipped his breakfast onto a plate. Then, he titled his head and looked at me. There was a gentle expression in his eyes and that meant that any alcohol he'd consumed last night had worn off. 

"Come here," he ordered gently. And I did. He gently made my hand hold the handle of the frying pan, "It's your turn." I bit my lip. I never actually cooked much, just occasionally. Whenever I cooked, it was always my baked penne recipe but I only really ate that out of comfort eating. Like when I was younger, I always made it with my mum and the memories of us doing it flooded back but I managed to block them out.

"If I make a fire, it's your fault," I half-joked, half-warned. Liam simply chuckled, pointing his finger up like E.T at the fire alarm. I couldn't help but let out a little laugh either and I gripped hold of the pan and poured some olive oil into it. Followed by the pancake mixture. So far, so good. It created an almost rounded circle.

After that, we watched it sizzle until the colour darkened and it was time to turn it over. I supposed Liam wanted me to flip it because he was observing me intensely. Well, what was there to lose? I flicked my wrist and the pancake flew up into the air but it didn't go directly up... instead it kind of went to the right... or was it left. Desperately, I started running around the kitchen like a headless chicken, trying to work out where it was going to land.