9. Feel So Good

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S T E L L A

"Oh god, what happened this time, Stel?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It looks like Betty Crocker had an orgy in here."

I looked around my flour dusted kitchen as batter covered bowls and utensils decorated my countertops. I was just pulling out a hot tray of cookies from the oven when Gracie came in, nearly causing me to drop them on the open glass door.

"I'm just baking." I shrugged my shoulders, setting the cookie sheet onto the stove to cool.

"I can see that, but you made enough cookies to end starvation in a small village." Gracie waved her arms around to the abundance of baked goods surrounding us. I had already packed some into containers since I was on my fifth batch.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, scooping out peanut butter dough balls and rolling them in my hands to place onto the baking sheet.

"You only bake like this when you're stressed." Gracie raised her brows at me expectedly, placing one hand on her hip as the other grabbed a fresh cookie.

"Not every time." I mumbled, continuing to space the lumps of dough to bake.

As much as I tried to deny that my current baking frenzy was due to stress, Gracie was right. I had multiple ways of blowing off steam and clearing my head, but I found that baking was not only therapeutic, it was delicious. Baking and eating away my worries with homemade cookies was the key to my mental stability for the past three years.

I could see Gracie shaking her blue head in the corner of my eye. "The last time you baked like this was when you were waiting for your acceptance letter–"

"We don't talk about that." I cut off my best friend, watching her bubbly presence turn quiet and low. "Unless you wanna watch me bake five more batches, you shush."

"Sorry, it just slipped out." Gracie muttered, stuffing a peanut butter cookie in her mouth to distract from my scolding tone. "But seriously, what's wrong this time? What's got you baking again?"

I sighed, sliding in the sheet of raw dough into the oven. My pause was intentional and thoughtful, knowing that if I did not word my thoughts carefully, Gracie could potentially eat me alive.

"Well last night I had to bail out Luke because he started a bar fight to protect one of the flag girls and Ashton tackled and arrested him. So they both met each other last night and it was really weird and now I don't know what to do. Like they're so different yet I think I like them both and I-"

"Jesus Christmas, Stella. Breathe." Gracie mounted her hands on my shoulders as she demonstrated deep breaths for me to copy.

"I'm sorry I rambled," I wiped my hands on my apron anxiously.

"Wait, Stella." Gracie clutched onto my batter covered fingers.

"Ew, Grace. I have dough all on my h-"

"Did you just say you like them both?"

"Well n-no, I said I think I do."

"You think? So you're not sure?"

"Gracie, I am one of the most emotionally-unaware girls to walk the Earth. I have not fucking clue."

Gracie looked at me with squinted eyes, releasing my hands from her grasp before looking down in disgust from the yellow batter coating her hands. She silently wiped it off on my apron before placing her face into her hands.

Her silent gaze was detectably her way of determining if I were lying to her or not. I told Gracie almost everything about anything that has ever happened in my life, but she knew how reserved I was about having romantic feelings for people. My best friend was always one to pry on my feelings, yet most of the time I didn't quite understand them myself.

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