hard on my bottom lip to keep myself together. The way they talk and the
way they interact reminds me so much of how my mom and I used to be, and it's unsettling.
Zander looks over at me, laughing at something else his mother says to him and immediately
steps over to my side and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
"I think it's time to bring out my masterpiece so everyone can tell me what an awesome
baker I am," he says loudly.
As his mother walks away from us and over to the fridge, Zander leans down close to
my ear. "You okay?" he asks softly.
It's uncanny how well he knows me and can read me. It should make me nervous that
someone I just met can see what I'm trying to hide, but it doesn't. With anyone else
it probably would, but not with Zander. I plaster a smile on my face for his benefit
and nod my head at him.
His arm slips from around my waist and he laces his fingers with mine, leading me
over to the table where his mother has just set down a cake on a huge glass plate.
At least, I think it's a cake. It sort of resembles a cake. It's covered in white
frosting and has globs of pink frosting dotted all over it that I'm assuming are supposed
to be flowers, but that's where the similarities end. The "cake" is leaning so far
to one side that I honestly have no idea how it's even remaining upright. There are
so many bumps and divots on the thing that I'm wondering if he just cut up a bunch
of cupcakes and glued them together with frosting. I don't want to laugh, but it's
really hard to hold it in. Everyone is standing around the table staring at this monstrosity
with a straight face. His uncle bends down until his face is about two inches from
it and cocks his head to the side like he's trying to figure out what it is.
"What the hell is that? It looks like something the cat yacked up!" Zander's eight-year-old
brother, Luke, is the first to break the silence.
"Luke Andrew! Watch your mouth!" Mary scolds.
She tries to keep a straight face so her youngest son knows she means business, but
it's no use. She immediately bursts out laughing, and when everyone else sees that
it's okay, they all join in.
"Oh come on! It's not that bad!" Zander complains. This just makes everyone laugh
even louder.
"I'm sorry we weren't able to make it to the decorating portion of our lesson the
other night," I tell him with a giggle as his mom wipes tears of laughter from her
eyes.
"Oh, honey, you are an amazing doctor, but a baker you are not!" Mary says with a
laugh.
I glance quickly at Zander and see him wince a little at his mother's words.
"You're a doctor?" I ask him in shock. I immediately feel a little inadequate standing
next to him. This is probably why I kept putting off asking him more about himself.
I already knew he was a better person than me and this just proves it. Now I know
why he always seems so together all the time. He's a freaking doctor. He's twenty-two
years old and he's a doctor. Is that even possible? Is he a genius or something? He's
probably been trying to diagnose me since we met. I can't help but feel a little betrayed
by this knowledge even though it's my fault for never pursuing more information about
him.
"No! I'm not a doctor," he quickly reassures me when he sees the obvious look of alarm
on my face. "I'm an x-ray technician."
Mary scoffs and lightly shoves his shoulder. "Don't be so modest. It's much fancier
than that. He's a specialist in rad-"
"Mom! Seriously, this is your birthday. For one day, you can hold off on bragging
about me," Zander says with an uncomfortable laugh, effectively cutting her off. "Come
on, everyone dig in. I swear it tastes better than it looks. I had a really good teacher."
He leans down and kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes, savoring his closeness
and pushing away the negative feeling of knowing yet another fact has been added to
the growing list of things about Zander
way they interact reminds me so much of how my mom and I used to be, and it's unsettling.
Zander looks over at me, laughing at something else his mother says to him and immediately
steps over to my side and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
"I think it's time to bring out my masterpiece so everyone can tell me what an awesome
baker I am," he says loudly.
As his mother walks away from us and over to the fridge, Zander leans down close to
my ear. "You okay?" he asks softly.
It's uncanny how well he knows me and can read me. It should make me nervous that
someone I just met can see what I'm trying to hide, but it doesn't. With anyone else
it probably would, but not with Zander. I plaster a smile on my face for his benefit
and nod my head at him.
His arm slips from around my waist and he laces his fingers with mine, leading me
over to the table where his mother has just set down a cake on a huge glass plate.
At least, I think it's a cake. It sort of resembles a cake. It's covered in white
frosting and has globs of pink frosting dotted all over it that I'm assuming are supposed
to be flowers, but that's where the similarities end. The "cake" is leaning so far
to one side that I honestly have no idea how it's even remaining upright. There are
so many bumps and divots on the thing that I'm wondering if he just cut up a bunch
of cupcakes and glued them together with frosting. I don't want to laugh, but it's
really hard to hold it in. Everyone is standing around the table staring at this monstrosity
with a straight face. His uncle bends down until his face is about two inches from
it and cocks his head to the side like he's trying to figure out what it is.
"What the hell is that? It looks like something the cat yacked up!" Zander's eight-year-old
brother, Luke, is the first to break the silence.
"Luke Andrew! Watch your mouth!" Mary scolds.
She tries to keep a straight face so her youngest son knows she means business, but
it's no use. She immediately bursts out laughing, and when everyone else sees that
it's okay, they all join in.
"Oh come on! It's not that bad!" Zander complains. This just makes everyone laugh
even louder.
"I'm sorry we weren't able to make it to the decorating portion of our lesson the
other night," I tell him with a giggle as his mom wipes tears of laughter from her
eyes.
"Oh, honey, you are an amazing doctor, but a baker you are not!" Mary says with a
laugh.
I glance quickly at Zander and see him wince a little at his mother's words.
"You're a doctor?" I ask him in shock. I immediately feel a little inadequate standing
next to him. This is probably why I kept putting off asking him more about himself.
I already knew he was a better person than me and this just proves it. Now I know
why he always seems so together all the time. He's a freaking doctor. He's twenty-two
years old and he's a doctor. Is that even possible? Is he a genius or something? He's
probably been trying to diagnose me since we met. I can't help but feel a little betrayed
by this knowledge even though it's my fault for never pursuing more information about
him.
"No! I'm not a doctor," he quickly reassures me when he sees the obvious look of alarm
on my face. "I'm an x-ray technician."
Mary scoffs and lightly shoves his shoulder. "Don't be so modest. It's much fancier
than that. He's a specialist in rad-"
"Mom! Seriously, this is your birthday. For one day, you can hold off on bragging
about me," Zander says with an uncomfortable laugh, effectively cutting her off. "Come
on, everyone dig in. I swear it tastes better than it looks. I had a really good teacher."
He leans down and kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes, savoring his closeness
and pushing away the negative feeling of knowing yet another fact has been added to
the growing list of things about Zander
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