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“What…do you mean?”
She fixates me with a look, but she offers no other words except for instructions to cook.
I end up burning the soup, only slightly, and am put on Sam’s shit list for endangering her special pot.
What I enjoy the most, however, is making a chocolate strawberry cake and it turns out pretty decent, though not as spongy as it should be.
Half a day and a gigantic mess in the kitchen later, and Sam is so done with my antics. She chases me out after I break a crystal glass. In my defense, it looked ugly.
Anyway, after I take a shower, I change into a similar dress with a more daring neckline, then slip on my soft-pink slippers with fluffy pom-poms.
By the time I’m downstairs again, it’s around six.
I spy outside from the reception area, but no car comes.
So I go up to the music room, practice my Bach for over two hours, then go down again.
This time, I’m more annoyed than disappointed.
“You should have some dinner,” Sam says, pointing at the dishes on the table, among which lie my soup and two slices of my cake.
“I have no appetite.”
I fling the cupboard open, snatch my bucket of candy floss, and slip to the library to read about fictional romance and distant worlds.
Thinking better of it, I grab Eli’s stupid political, historical, and finance books and stack them on the plush Persian carpet in a few chaotic rows. I can imagine the twitch in his eyes if he sees them in such a disorganized manner.
Perfect.
I lie on my stomach and proceed to eat my candy floss as I flip the pages of a giant book about the Hundred Years' War.
I’m not even reading. Or interested.
The entire point is to mess up the books.
I take a picture of my sticky fingers, the bucket of candy floss, and the mountain of his books, then send it to him.
Me
Interesting stuff.
I can’t hide my smile when his reply comes immediately.
Tin Man
Did you mark the pages with candy floss, Ava?
And here I thought your deduction talents were getting rusty.
Move away from the library and take that terrorist bucket with you.
But I don’t want to. Btw, can you explain this?
I circle a line in the book in red without even reading it, underline andor highlight a few others, then dog-ear the page for good measure. Satisfied with my handiwork, I snap a picture and then send it over.
He doesn’t reply for one long minute. I believe I gave him a heart attack.
Fun.
