Her First Bite

Three | Brownies

You know what brought people together?

Food.

Food was basically at every social event. At weddings, birthday parties, Quinceaneras, concerts. You name it, food would be there- front and center where everyone could see. Food was a thing that everyone had in common with, so of course it brought people together.

Oh you like those types of chips too? Let's be friends. You like sushi? We're best friends. Oh my god, you're a vegan too? We are fucking soulmates.

Food was a subject that was easy to discuss for many. We found out peoples likes and dislikes. And it was super easy way to find out what type of person they were. For example, if they liked pineapple on their pizza: they were a serial killer.

The first conversation I had with Erin, my roommate that has the brother that I want to fuck, was about food. I asked her the very important pizza question and when she answered correctly- it went uphill from there. We had the same taste in most foods, same taste in music, but with movies uh it was a challenge. I mean who didn't like The Notebook? Erin Lawson sure didn't. But I looked past it when she said that my specialty brownies were the best thing ever tasted. Her taste buds were working fine so yeah I looked past it; even if her movie buds were terrible at picking good shit.

Jett, Erin's boyfriend, would also agree. A memory of all three of us spread across the living room couch - me alone on one side, while the couple was coupled up on the other side - while me and Jett were making Erin watch The Notebook; made a small smile appear on my face. It's funny how much of a third wheel I was. We hung out so much together these past months I bet some people thought we were a thrupple.

But sadly, my vagina only had a thing for asshole chefs' who's name rhymed with Launce. Sad really.

The sound of my timer going off broke me apart from my thoughts.

"Shit." I said as I turned the alarm off. I peaked inside the oven and saw the light shell of the brownies crisp. Should I add an extra five minutes to harden the layer more? I usually like them a little crunchy on the outside. I mean. . . they looked okay, but I was presenting these to other people and they needed to be perfe-

"Are they done yet?" Erin shouted from the living room. Damn I still couldn't get used to her voice either. It ran in the family I guess- the shouting.

A hair fly away came down and messed up my vision; I brushed it away from my face. Whatever, they looked okay. Let's feed the impatient children. "Yeah, they're done." And yes I remembered to use the oven mitts - I'm not bare handed - as I took the hot brownie tray out from the oven. They smelled good.

I opened the cabinet and got out serving plates. I snatched eight brownies off the tray and placed them on the plates. Garishing them. Making it look pretty. Adding my finishing touches. This was one of my favorite parts of cooking- preparing it for serving. The decorating. I loved seeing the first look on a person's face when I brought out one of my creations. I felt accomplished. Skilled. Like a real chef.

My second favorite part was hearing all the comments. The good or bad. All comments helped me improve. When I landed the plates on the living room coffee table, all I heard coming out of my three friend's mouths were compliments; and those warmed my heart. Jett, Erin and Luis - Jett's (well ours now) friend - loved the brownies and practically demanded me to make them for Jett's birthday menu.

I had a slight little business while I was still in school- nothing big. It was a catering business - again nothing big - but I made a food page on instagram. People could request different dishes to be made and delivered to them or picked up here. Some for birthdays, some for barbecues, or sometimes some just wanted something sweet for that day. It was pretty manageable but when I was requested to do a big party or event, it took a little more time. Like now. . .Jett's request for brownies at his party were going to take some time but it was two weeks from here so I could handle it.