Page 46 of Revive

“Don’t even joke, Hendrix. Do you know how hard it is to stop at one duck spring roll? These places. they give you four and there are five people, but you want two. I’m bad at math, but I know it equals me leaving the restaurant hungry.”

“You’re serious about this.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “The question is why aren’t you?”

Following her into the kitchen, I cross my arms, and lean back on to the bench “I’ve really never given it this much thought.”

Opening her pantry, she pulls out a shake and make pancake bottle, along with maple syrup, icing sugar, and a bag of chocolate chips. Placing them on the counter, she looks up at me. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “You didn't get that nickname for nothing.”

“So,” she says, flittering around the kitchen for additional needs. “Do you want some of my famous choc chip pancakes?”

“I could definitely eat pancakes, do you want help?”

She hands me the plastic bottle. “If you could fill it up with water and shake it using those muscles of yours, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Snatching it from her, I fill it up to the designated line. I flex my arm while shaking the bottle. “Is this what you meant?”

“God, how will I ever make pancakes without you.”

“You’re in for some hard times, Crazy.”

Rolling her eyes, she places a silver mixing bowl between us. “Pour it in here.”

As I do, she empties the chocolate chips into the bowl also. “You know they have the chocolate chip version of these shake and makes.”

“I am aware, but sometimes when I go on a random health binge, I snack on chocolate chips and convince myself it’s not breaking the rules because they’re so small.”

“It’s totally breaking the rules.”

“Ha. Ha. That’s funny.” She hands me a whisk. “I don’t remember asking you.”

“I’m sorry, did I sign up for kitchen hand?”

“You got to earn your keep around here, that dick will only get you so far.”

I click my tongue. “Is that a challenge?”

“You’re welcome to prove me wrongafterI eat the pancakes.”

“Deal.” Grabbing her shoulders, I nudge her out of the kitchen. “Go, be busy, and these will be ready in no time.”

“Drix, I’m kidding I—”

“No,” I cut her off. “Let me do it for you.”

“Fine, I’ll just be taking photos of you in your underwear slaving over the stove.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Do you know women at all? This is equivalent to a photo of you with a newborn baby on your chest.” She jogs into her room and comes back with her phone in hand. “I’m going to send it to all my friends. Better yet I’m going to post it on Instagram, with the hashtag you wish you were me right now.”

Focusing back on the task at hand, I continue making sure the pancake batter isn’t lumpy, and adding the chocolate chips. Taylah’s explanation of women, babies, and cooking goes straight over my head, as I give her my back and start up her gas stove to cook the pancakes. We’re in a comfortable silence, me dead set on the perfect pancakes, and her trying for the perfect picture.

“Do you want to eat on the breakfast bar or the table?”

“You’re going to set up too?

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