The Boyfriend Checklist

17

"Oh, my God, Aaron!" Gemma said with a breathy sigh.

With her mouth held open and her wide eyes almost leaping out from their sockets, she placed her palm on her chest and tried to move an inch to have a closer look at what was in front of her.

The kitchen was, slightly, a mess.

Sprawled all over the countertop were some kitchen equipment, bowls, a pack of pasta, and a few unknown things she couldn't decipher from afar.

For a Wednesday evening, they decided to stay at Gemma's house. She wanted to study and spend time with Aaron; and since it was difficult for her to decide which one she should choose, she asked him if he could stay at her place while he waited for her. It was a brilliant idea for Aaron was aiming for that anyway.

It seemed that Aaron's kind of waiting meant that he would clutter up the room. Apparently, she didn't expect him to do this.

"I've no intention of burning your house down, okay? I'm. . . trying to cook dinner for you."

As if it was reassuring enough, her face relaxed and her hand dropped to her sides. "Let me guess. Is this included in your rules?"

Before answering, Aaron checked the cooking pot. "Yes. Rule number forty. And I'm preparing something nice," he moved around the kitchen, removed the trash, then placed some plates in the sink. "Just pretend I'm doing an excellent job here."

Like a detective, Gemma carefully walked into the room and probed the items on the table. Her eyebrows reached her hairline, looking impressed and fascinated.

"So, you're making Shrimp and Olive Pasta with Parmesan Cheese. . . ?" Gemma read the name of the recipe he was cooking. Placed on top of the counter was a piece of paper with the ingredients and procedure on how to prepare it.

Aaron studied the emotion on her face, gauging her reaction. "More like trying."

"Olives?" She glanced up at him, looking appalled.

Before she could react more, he raised a finger near her face. "Don't worry. I didn't put olives."

"Good. I thought you have no plans feeding me."

"Rule number forty-one and forty-two, he must have an idea of the things you like and what you don't like." He smiled. "I know you like shrimps and parmesan."

Shaking her head, Gemma chuckled whilst she watched him. He was unbelievably listening to her all this time. The things she liked and hated the most were randomly dropped whenever they talked. So he had been taking down notes.

"You know, you're not allowed to cook it slowly." Gemma said with a grin.

Aaron looked curious as he glanced at her sideways. "Why's that?"

"It's because you're cooking pasta, therefore you have to do it fasta."

He let out a hearty laugh. Gemma was contemplating if she should join in or just watch him lean his head backwards with the end of his lips reaching his ears. It wasn't like he laughed like this quite often.

"Don't tell me you're only laughing because it's also a requirement."

"It is," he paused to inhale. "Rule number forty-three. It would be nice if he laughs at your jokes."

Gemma gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "I knew it! You've been forcing yourself all along?"

"No, not really. Your jokes are really good so I laugh with my whole heart."