Twisted

Chapter 11- Cake (47 days to go)

The more I lay in bed thinking about him the worse the ache in my stomach became. It was like I hadn't eaten in months. I'd always thought that you ached for someone from your heart, it was so similar to that sort of ache but in a way so different. It was more powerful.

This morning when I awoke after a restless night, I knew what I had to do. I had to find a way for him to spend time with me, to speak to me, without it seeming suspicious. Today he wouldn't arrive until midday, so I had time to come up with a plan.

I spent most of the morning pacing the floor until I finally realised the one thing my father would always say.

'The way your mother got me to speak to her was to feed me. There is no better way to a man's heart then through his stomach.'

It would be strange for me to just serve a meal when he arrived so instead I decided to do what all women are expected to do.

Bake.

I collected my ingredients from the shelves and looked through one of Olga's cooking books. I needed an amazing cake to get German to have some and sit down to talk to me.

Gosh, I sounded so desperate.

I found a recipe for a triple layer chocolate brownie cake and it insisted that the recipe was easy and as a beginner, easy sounded great.

I began to fold in the flour and the sugar into one bowl whilst I put the wet ingredients in the other. It was easy measuring the ingredients in the scales but I was stumped when it came to spoons.

I needed a teaspoon of vanilla extract and after five minutes of silent debate with myself, I decided that it must be the large spoon as the little one just didn't seem enough.

I then beat it together until the mixture was... well by the books definition it should have been creamy and I supposed mine was creamy, just watered down a little.

When everything seemed to be finished I placed the bowl in the oven. It took me a moment to realise what I had done.

"It's still in the bowl!" I cried as I realised my mistake.

I dove down to the oven and grabbed it out, forgetting about oven gloves.

"Ow, ow , ow... owwwwwwwwwwww"

My fingers stung from the heat of the oven, so I needed to run them under the water but as I turned around I fell and the flour bag exploded.

It got all over my apron and I fell to the floor in misery. It was 11:43. German would be here in 17 minutes and now I had no excuse to talk to him.

Violetta walked in a moment later.

"Angie, what's all this?" she said shocked.

"I was baking." I said with a slight smile.

Violetta shook her head, "But why?"

"Because I want to speak to German!"

Violetta laughed, "Then speak to him."

I sighed, "I can't just start a conversation out of nowhere. I need a reason to speak to him, I was going to offer him cake and then try but now... now I can't."

Now Violetta sighed, "Okay, okay. Why don't you cook the hot chocolate fudge cake?"

"Vilu, there is no time!" I cried frustrated.

"I know, but Olga got it from the supermarket. It takes fifteen minutes in the microwave. It's lovely."

"It's already made?" I asked.

Violetta nodded.

I jumped up from where I was sitting and Violetta put the cake in the microwave.

"Okay, we have sixteen minutes until he gets here. You go and fix youself, I'll deal with the mess." said Violetta.

I ran upstairs and quickly pushed the flour from myself and got water on my burnt hand. I rushed because I knew there wasn't much time and I was desperate.

I got downstairs in a better state at three minutes to twelve and the kitchen was spotless.

"Vilu, you, how.. it... what?" I couldn't comprehend how it was so clean.

"I'm quick. Now come on!! Grab a plate for the cake."

I did as she said and placed it on the side waiting.

Three minutes until he arrives.

Two minuted until the cake is ready.

I was moving from one foot to the other frantically. The minutes were going too slow but also too fast.

"You like him don't you?" said Violetta from behind.

"What?" I said dramatically, "No, no. Definately not, he's just my friend."

Violeta laughed, "Angie if he was your friend you'd just speak to him. You have to make up and excuse to talk to him because you are nervous to actually start one out of the blue. And do you know why??"

I ignored her and watched the microwave.

"Because you likeeeee himmmm."

"Vilu I-"

I was cut of by the silmultaneous noise of the door knocking and the microwave beeping.

Violetta nodded at me, "I've got the door, grab the cake."