Page 52 of Go Cook Yourself

I nearly texted her a load of times, but we don’t text. We never have. And the regret covering her face both at the pub and the times she looked at me since suggests there’s nothing to talk about.

I’ve seen her parents a lot, though. They said to visit whenever I wanted. I’ve visited Cookie most days this week after the community college. The third time, they insisted I stay for dinner and talked to me about my dreams.

I can’t do anything to destroy the family who’ve taken the time to give me a chance, which means Ruby and I are a no-go. Not that she’s interested.

I’ve considered my future in other ways, too. Cookie and I have had several long, muddy walks. The fresh air and endless throws of the ball have filled me with the space I’ve missed. I need to find a job and somewhere I can move to, but instead,on those walks, I’ve deliberated recipes and designs for a restaurant.

I want to run a restaurant, but I can’t do it without earning head chef money for a while. I’ve put some feelers out with old contacts around the country and as far as Scotland and Ireland. There’s one possibility: the owner of a Michelin Star restaurant in Ireland said there might be a job after Christmas. She can’t tell me more for a few weeks, though.

As I walk into the school, music plays. My gaze darts right and left before air escapes my lungs.

“Hey, champ,” Kath says, making me smile. I’ve not had a nickname since I worked as a minion in the kitchens. “How is Cookie?”

I give Kath a bear hug that knocks her off her feet, and she does the same to me, although mine is an emotional knocking. This place has seeped beneath my skin, and as much as I need to pull back, I can’t. “Thank you again for everything. You were amazing.”

Kath squeezes me back. “Anything for family.”

I recognise Ruby’s clumping heels behind me. She has unusually stompy feet sometimes, but I don’t turn. I’ve thought about that kiss all week. The warmth of her skin against my hands and the moans she made when she took the kiss deeper. I can’t give her any promises for the future or be the reason for her family’s trouble. They’ve given me the world.

But eventually, I turn, and she’s staring at me like she wants to talk. The change from barely noticing my existence this week causes a tightness in my chest.

“Is there anything I need to know about today’s class?” I ask Kath.

She looks from Ruby to me, squinting. “No. It’s a normal Italian class, but please push the wine and wreath making on Monday night.”

There’s been a chill in the air all week, and as much as it reflects the mood I’m trying to instill in myself, it’s more from the change in seasons. Winter is here. In less than a week, it will be the first of December and the run-up to Christmas.

“Are we still baking later?” I ask Ruby. “I’ve got some ideas.”

She’s worrying her hands, and I pop a stick of gum into my mouth so I don’t grind my teeth. I want to make things better and hug her, but I’ve sat through a meal and several coffees where her parents talked enthusiastically about her return.

“No. I’m going to do the whole baking thing on my own,” she replies flatly, her stare focused on the floor. “I don’t need your help.”

I stand back. A pain hits my chest, and air whooshes from my mouth.

Her eyes meet mine. They’re wide as she stutters, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” I say, cutting her dead. Did I do something wrong, or is this about her family? She could just talk to me. The peppermint bursts in my mouth as I chew slowly. I miss the taste of strawberry that lingered after my kiss with Ruby, but from the brusque way she’s rejected my help, I guess we’re done. Maybe she doesn’t even want me as a friend. “I have plans.”

Ruby’s brow furrows. “Like what?”

Kath continues to stare at us with her lips squeezed to the side.

I shrug. I’m being pigheaded, but her rejection is triggering some stuff from Clive and my parents. I should walk away or smile and be kind, but my grumpy chef persona is rearing its head. “It’s just stuff.”

Her face falls briefly. Shit, I did that. I’m an arsehole. I need to apologise.

“Right,” she says.

I clear my throat, readying myself to tell her that if she ever changes her mind, I can help, but she’s forcing a fake smile and turning to Kath. She says breezily, “Let’s get through today. I’ve had a late night, and the sooner I can get home, the better.”

“That’s probably for the best. It’s going to snow tonight,” Kath replies. Her beady eyes monitor me.

I chew the gum harder. Ruby dismissed me. I cancelled extra work to help her tonight, and although I don’t need money for Cookie anymore, I’m still nowhere near earning enough to get out of my present situation. Did she have a late night because she was on a date?

“But it’s November,” I say grumpily. I shouldn’t take things out on her, but the rejection still stings. I didn’t realise I was so easy to dismiss, at least not so easy for her.

“But it’s going to snow. I’ve got one of my snow headaches,” Kath replies.

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