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“Looks like I still have a lot to learn,” I’d told him.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” he said. “You’ll get there.”
Then he went on to teach me even more in the bedroom.
As the week progressed, I was practically living at his house, arriving early, cooking and testing my various recipes during the day, then staying to have fun and relax with him for a good part of the evening.
With the second round of the competition just around the corner, I felt ready, confident and relaxed, all thanks to Chef Mac.
Heading home one night after a long day of working with exciting spices from faraway places, I returned to the campus and headed to my dorm. From a distance, I saw a figure standing by the main entrance to my dorm. He was tall and paced back and forth impatiently. As I approached, he looked up and saw me, pulling his shoulders back as if readying for a confrontation. He was edgy and determined.
And when he started to walk towards me, a foreboding sensation filled me. There was conviction in every step, so much so that I almost stopped walking, but continued on.
Dusk was falling, preventing me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew who it was. In such a short amount of time, I’d come to know his stance, his gait, the sway of his shoulders and the tilt of his head.
My heart pounded. What did he want this time? Was he finally going to admit to thinking about me all the time? Was he going to pull me into his arms and tell me how he couldn’t live without me?
No.
As his face became visible, I could see that none of that was going to happen. He had that fierce ‘I want you out of my school’ look.
“Out on the town?” he said when he was close enough.
I didn’t look directly at him and I didn’t stop. I simply walked on, forcing him to fall in step alongside me.
“With the study schedule that you have, don’t you think you’re coming home a little late?”
At this, I glanced sidelong at him. “Are you keeping track of my comings and goings, Alex?”
“It’s Axel,” he said flatly.
“Whatever.”
“No. I don’t care where you go and when you get back, it’s just that...”
“Well, obviously you do care, or you wouldn’t be here waiting outside my dorm and reprimanding me for coming in late.”
He lips pursed for a brief moment and he pulled his shoulders back, a move I’d come to recognize whenever he was uncomfortable or contradicted.
“Where are you coming from?” he said bluntly.
I said nothing.
“From Chef Mac’s house, right?”
I stayed silent. He had no right to ask me, and I certainly didn’t owe him a response.
“Damn it, Layla. Where were you?”
“Damn it, Axel,” I said in the same tone. “Are you a dorm mom now?”
We arrived at the stoop to the dorm, and I was about to reach out to open the door, but he grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me off the stoop and onto the small path that led to the back of the building.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I said as I tried to pull away.
“Answer me. Were you at Chef Mac’s house?”
“Shit, Axel. Why didn’t you just park outside his house and you’d already have your answer.”
