"Sh*t, are you serious?" I tried to keep myself composed.
"Yea," she opened the door and motioned for him to come in, "Hey, Vernon. Cathy will be home by 11 from her fashion studio. Did you buy the things I told you to?"
"Yeah, how big of a cake are we making? Why did you make me buy so much?" he took off his shoes and jacket before sitting on the kitchen stool.
"I'm not sure, I was just about to search up the recipe," she said nonchalantly as she grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer.
"You're joking, right? Shouldn't we be starting if we want to make it on time?" I scolded.
"Chill, I'm doing it right now. Oh, this is Vernon by the way. Vernon, Zee" she scooped a mouthful of ice cream as she scrolled through her phone.
"Yeah, we met," he tried to smile, but I could tell he was uncomfortable by the spontaneity of it all.
"I didn't know Cathy had a younger brother," I blurted.
"She doesn't. I'm her older brother," he unpacked the grocery unto the table.
I wanted to slap myself for impulsively saying something stupid, "Oh."
Lily propped up her phone on the counter to display the recipe as our reference. Eric was napping on the couch and somehow slept through the loud music playing on our stereo system. Taylor had just finished showering and joined us downstairs with Zack following behind her. It didn't seem to bother anyone else that he was displaying a significantly sized and fresh hickey on his neck. I guess I was the only one around here that never bothered myself with those kinds of things.
"Can you get me 3 cups of flour and 2 large eggs?" Lily asked.
"Shouldn't we separate the wet and dry ingredients?" I suggested.
"It didn't say in the recipe, thought."
"She's right. Put the wet ingredients here. I'll sift the dry ingredients," Vernon agreed.
"You can start whipping the heavy cream then." Lily commanded.
"Sure," I gave her a dirty look that I thought no one noticed.
Vernon gave a slight chuckle. As if to tell me that he could sympathize with my pain of dealing with an incompetent person. I finished whipping the cream and set it aside in the fridge before moving on to peeling and cutting the fresh fruits for the toppings and fillings.
"Lily! There are so many eggshells in this! What the f*ck did you do?" Vernon widened his eyes as he peered in her bowl.
"Don't they just cook through in the oven? We're gonna put it in the mixer anyway, right? Wouldn't that pulverize it?" she gazed up at the towering figure.
I was surprised she knew the word pulverize. I could see the annoyance and disgust in our guest's eyes.
"No, it won't. The cake will be crunchy. Pick it out," he put a hand over his forehead in exasperation.
She struggled to get them out and mumbled to herself for a few minutes before giving up and sulked on the sofa. I cringed at the childish act and continued with my fruits. Vernon walked over to my side and sifted out the eggshells.
"I can't believe she was about to feed me these," he muttered to himself.
"Yeah, she had always been like that," I reassured him.
"Shouldn't your other friend be helping too?" he observed the empty kitchen.
"Oh, she's even worse with measurements and steps. I'll let her help decorate," I shook my head.
"Should I put them in the mixer now?"
"Sure."
I prepared the slices of the assorted fruits on a plate and refrigerated them. The ring mold Lily had taken out was way too small for the amount of batter we managed to produce. Our collections of baking tools were stored on the topmost shelf above the sink.
And I wasn't blessed with a sizable stature by my parents. I pulled out our foldable ladder and tried to reach for the bigger ring mold. My fingertips were inches away from reaching it. Suddenly I felt someone carrying me by my waist as I grabbed the metal ring.
"Um, thanks. You shouldn't have," I blushed and set the mold aside to be greased.
"You're welcome," he mentioned casually before turning the stand mixer off.
Was that normal? What just happened? I propped the mold for him as he poured the pale-yellow batter in. We baked it in the oven and waited on the kitchen counter.
"So, you're my sister's friend, huh?" he rested his head on his right hand as he looked down at me.
"Yeah, she's one of the first kids I met here who was from the same town," I tried to look away.
"Oh, that makes a lot of sense. She wouldn't stop talking about it. I'm glad she found someone with a common background," the kitchen lighting chiseled his jawline.
"What about you? Didn't you live together with her?" I walked up to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Yakult. "Want one?"
"Sure," he caught the bottle as I tossed it to him. "I was born here, moved back, and came back here for high school when our parents got divorced."
"I'm sorry. She never told me about it," I sipped on my yogurt drink.
"It's fine. What about you? Any annoying siblings?"
"Yeah, I have one younger sister."
"That's cool. Is she doing the same course as you?"
Usually guys would ask me if she's hot or to introduce them to her. But I guess he could relate, having a younger sister of his own.
"She's still in high school right now. I'm alone with these fools," I eyed the group of young adults mingling in our living room.
He smiled, "My housemates weren't any better. They would eat my food from the fridge. I was forced to get my own mini fridge inside my room. But I just moved into my own flat recently."