Innocence Interrupted..11

My head was reeling at just the sight of his beautiful face. He could totally be a model. But instead he was a skateboarder. Just as I was thinking how amazingly good Trax looks while sleeping, I heard a door slam shut. Turning, I saw Quinton by a door that I was guessing was the bathroom. Actually, I knew it was the bathroom due to the little knitted sign that said “bathroom.”

“Uhm, what’s that about?” I asked. Quinton looked over his shoulder, and he definitely looked guilty.

“Well, I just asked what was wrong with her lip. I mean, it looked like it was pumped full of air.”

At this description I couldn’t help but laugh.

“She got stung by a bee.” I explained, coming over to the door beside Quinton.

“and, she was really upset over it. Amber??!” I yelled through the door. “Come out now.”

“NO!” she screeched. Damn, must she be such a drama queen? I ALMOST looked as bad as her and you didn’t see me hiding in people’s bathrooms did you? No way.

“Seriously, quit acting like this. It’s not that big of a deal.” I said. Every time Amber had a little fit, I got this voice. Like, a grown up voice. It always seemed to work with her.

“Your not the one that got stung by a bee!” She then opened the door and pointed to her lip.

Grabbing her wrist, I dragged her back into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

“Amber, do you really want to blow your chance with Quinton? I know you like him, and your little fit here isn’t going to help you out with him. Just calm down. It’s NOT as bad as you think,” A lie, but I wasn’t about to tell her that “and if he really liked you, he wouldn’t care about a temporary flaw in your PERFECT face.” I hissed this all at her in one breath. Amazing, I know, but she was really starting to get on my last nerve.

She sighed and leaned against the wall. “Im sorry. It’s just, I like Quinton and when I look like this I think I have no chance.” She said, and in my head I screamed in annoyance.

“You can get anyone you want, and you know it. So just quit.” With that, I opened the door, and walked out, not caring if Amber followed or not. She did.

After apologizing to Quinton, we decided that we were hungry. Which, I really was.

“Do you guys wanna order something? Or we can make something?” Quinton said as me and Amber plopped down on the kitchen table chairs. I must say, this house is fancy. Especially for two guys. I wanted to ask why their apartment was like this, but I decided I would once I got to know them better. I was still to shy.

“You cook?” Amber asked. I actually wouldn’t be surprised if he said he could at this point.

“Yeh. My mom left when I was little, and my dad was….he just couldn’t cook. So I had to cook for myself. And I just never stopped.” He said with a shy smile.

I raised my eyebrows and laughed while Amber replied with a “ I like a man who can cook.” Back to her old self ,I see.

“So, what exactly happened to you guys? I mean, no offense, but , you guys look like you’ve been through HELL.” Quinton questioned.

We glanced at each other in silent amusement, until we couldn’t hold it in anymore. Our laughing was apparently contagious because soon Quinton was smiling along with us.

“It’s a looong story.” I explained once I got enough breath.

“I have time.” He replied and sat down in an empty chair.

After telling him what had happened, and him making fun of us, we decided we were going to bake a cake. Weird, I know. But right now it sounded fun.

We got all the ingredients ready, and by that time I was at total ease with Quinton. He could turn out to be a GREAT friend.

Thinking I heard a shuffling noise, I glanced behind me. And saw Trax. He was leaning up against the doorframe in jeans and a black wife-beater. Looking exceptionally good. I froze.

“Hey Buddy. Finally awake.” Quinton laughed.

Prying his eyes away from mine, Trax smiled at Quinton. “Yea, sorry about that guys. I didn’t sleep much last night.” He walked fully into the kitchen and glanced at the stuff we had out.

“Making a cake?” He asked.

“If you want any, you better help.” Amber said with a smirk. “And we better get to work.”

Everyone continued what they were doing and I turned around to do the same thing. I wonder what Trax was going to do.

I was silently hoping he would come over to help me, yet dreading it at the same time. Just the sight of him made my stomach flutter and my face redden. What would being so close to him do?

“And, how are you holding up here??” I heard Trax ask. OMG.

I smiled. “Fine.” Even though I totally wasn’t. I’m cooking impaired. But as frustrating as mixing this batter may be, I won’t give up.

It’s just, THE LUMPS WILL NOT LEAVE.

I saw him lean against the counter and I visibly stiffened. I peeked at him through my bangs, and saw he was staring at the batter. He had kind of a amused look on his face, but also disbelieving.

“What?” I questioned, knitting my eyebrows. “Am I doing something wrong?”

I stopped mixing and also stared at the clumped batter.

“Have you ever baked a cake before??” With raised eyebrows he stared at me.

I shifted feet, and clutched my utensil tighter.

“Well, no. But, I’ve seen my mom make one.” At this Trax laughed and stood straight.

“And she uses a spoon to mix the batter?”

“Uhm, I never really paid attention to that. But I thought that’s what you used.” My face was now various shades of red, I knew, and I was biting my lip in confusion. Aren’t you supposed to use a spoon?

Trax gently pulled the spoon from my hand and threw it in the sink nearby. Opening up the silver wear drawer, he produced a more useful tool. A fork.

As he handed it to me, our fingers brushed, and that annoying tingle strayed up my hand.

“A fork works better.” He smirked and I groaned. “I am SUCH an idiot.”

“Your not an idiot. Just…inexperienced. Once you live with Quinton here for over a year, you kinda catch on to the cooking thing.” He returned to his leaning against the counter position while I continued to stir.

“So, you’ve lived here since you were 18?” I was beginning to open up, and I wanted to learn more about Trax.

“Yea, when my mom kicked me out.” He shrugged.

“If you don’t mind me asking…why’d she kick you out?”

“My grades. I’ve always known I was going to be a pro skater, she just never agreed with it. My dad always supported me, though. But when my parents got separated and he moved to Washington, he wasn’t here to support me anymore.” He explained.

I stopped stirring. “She kicked you out because of what you wanted to do with your life??!” I gushed disbelievingly. She sounded like a BITCH to me.

“Yea. She always liked my “perfect” brother better anyway. So, now, I’m not in touch with either one of them.” I looked at him, and although his voice seemed completely devoid of emotion, I could see how deep his mother had hurt him. Everyone cares about what their parents think.

“Do you stay in touch with your dad?”

“Everyday I talk to him. He’s the only one there whenever I need him. Whatever it may be. Money, advice, support. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” As he told me this I could see the love shining in his eyes and I couldn’t help but think of my own dad, and how much I love him. Even if he is dead.

I cleared my throat as the unexpected tears formed in my eyes, and turned back to my cooking.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Trax asked, grabbing my elbow.

“No, I was just thinking of my dad. He died when I was twelve.” I replied, trying to brush it off as nothing. I didn’t want to go into details, especially with Amber and Quinton in the same room. Even if they weren’t paying attention.

“How did he die?”

I stopped stirring and muttered “lung cancer.” I felt Trax’s thumb moving over my arm, and it was oddly comforting.

“So, do you live with your mom?”

I turned toward him, and leaned my hip against the counter, one hand splaying on top of it.

“Yea, I guess you could say that. Even though she’s never home when I am. She has to work two jobs to support me and my brother. But Hawlin’s moving out soon so that won’t be much of a problem.”

In the back of my mind I was screaming at myself for being so open. I should never tell a practical stranger my life story. But the way he cared, Or acted like he cared, made me feel important, and the way he seemed so understanding, just made me open up to him like nothing. The only people I KNOW care about me are my mom, brother, and Amber. And they are also the only people I have love for, and love me. And my dad, of course.

He was still rubbing my arm, and I found myself concentrating on only that., It made it a lot less difficult to keep my emotions bottled while telling him this.

“Well, your brother seemed very protective of you yesterday.” He smiled.

“He is VERY protective.” I smirked back.

We were once again, lost in each others eyes,. How I LOVED his eyes. Like…swimming in a pool of caramel. Hah. Bad description.

A knock broke our trance, and with a hasty glance at Quinton, Trax went to open the door.

I didn’t really think much of it. Who was at the door, I mean. And neither did Amber by the look of displeasure as Quinton left her side to follow Trax. I grabbed the non-lumpy (YES!!) batter and carried it over to the cake pan Amber had.

A knowing look spread across her face, and she stared at me.

“What?!” I laughed.

“Don’t WHAT me. I saw you and Trax talking. And, his HAND on your ARM.” She said.

I shoved the batter at her and rolled my eyes.

“Like It’s that big of a deal.” I was acting so nonchalant about it. Like it really WASN’T a big deal. I thought I did a good job too. Apparently not.

“Don’t give me that crap, Taw. I know you were about to swoon at his feet.” Doing a mock interpretation of me “swooning”, the batter almost tumbled over the side of the bowl, onto the tiled kitchen floor.

I grabbed it quickly and started pouring it into the pan.

“Okay, okay Miss know-it-all. Inside my head I was all fainted on the ground in front of him, but for real I kept myself in check. Be proud.” I said.

Lifting my hand for a high five, we turned the simple gesture into our all time secret handshake. Don’t laugh.

Just as we had finished it, the boys came back. But with one little addition. Art.