Chapter 33 | Food fight

Lucas:

It had now been weeks and I still hadn't figured out why she was avoiding me. WEEKS.

I had tried several, several times to try and get the girls to spill; from stalking them at lunch, to coming over to Isabella's house for dinner, to even crashing Aidan and Grace's double dates with Sammy and Mia, yet I had found out nothing. Nothing. Well, maybe except for that one piece of information Grace had let slip - the one about the fact I had supposedly 'changed' insinuating whatever I did, had been done a while ago.

Since the about 15th time coming over to dinner at Bella's house and finding her either not home or locked away in her room, I had given up trying to pry answers out of the girls, instead I had decided to give them all space which I guess Isabella had wanted in the first place anyways.

It had been about three weeks since then and thanksgiving was approaching. I had also noticed that Isabella begun slowly avoiding me less and less as the days dragged on, she still didn't willingly talk to me but she wouldn't go running in the opposite directions if I had come within a ten mile radius near her. As for Mia, she stopped wanting to attack me whenever I was near and her dirty looks got less and less venomous as time strolled on which was progress I guess.

Tomorrow was thanksgiving and my parents were yet again not going to come home, so abuela and Valeria had kindly invited me over to spend thanksgiving with the Quintero's.

I had no clue which country my parents were off to now; could be Australia or Antarctica for all I knew, I barely communicated with them when they were out for work, only to ask them to send money.

My parents would always send more cash than I would actually ask for and I would never feel bad on spending it on useless, expensive items such as buying myself, Dylan and Aidan our own ps4 each (and you bet I was going to buy us three the ps5 when it was set to come out). They parents couldn't care less what I spent the money on as for them, giving me extra cash was the way to make up for not coming home for my football games, birthdays, thanksgivings and sometimes even Christmases.

I shook away the thought and the tight knot in my chest and instead brought my attention onto the various types of flour I was standing in front of at the supermarket.

Abuela had asked me to pick up some ingredients for the number of pies she was making for thanksgiving dinner and I was so fucking excited.

Abuela was by far the best cook in the entire freaking world and I know for a fact that I would leave the Quintero home tomorrow 20 pounds heavier.

Once I've double checked the list abuela had sent me and my cart is full with a number of food items, I roll the shopping trolley towards the till. I wait in line before paying for the food and hauling the bags outside to stuff into the boot of my car.

Once that is secure, I pop into the drivers seat and begin driving back to the Quintero home, humming along to the One direction song that may have been blasting out of my speakers as I drive.

The drive isn't that long, about 15 minuetes and once I've parked the car, I haul the bags out of the boot and treck down the porch before knocking on the door, waiting for someone to open.

Abuela comes to the front door shortly after, wearing an apron that says 'best cook ever' which I quickly remember as a present I had gifted her a while ago which brings a small smile to my face.

"Ah mijo you're here!" She greets gleefully, ushering me into the home. As I step inside to the warmth of the Quintero home I'm met with the aroma of pumpkin spice and apple pie wafting in the air and my stomach rumbles immedietly.

I follow abuela into the kitchen with the bags of food and plop them onto the island where Valeria is busy mixing ingredients to make the dough for one of the pies.

"Do you guys need help?" I ask, my eyes flitting over the mess of the kitchen.

Abuela smiles at me sheepishly. "It would be nice to get an extra hand in the kitchen," she replies. "But only if you want to mijo!"

"I kinda want to learn how to make the pies," I admit, heading over to the sink to wash my hands. I roll my sleeves up to my forearms. "Maybe then I could try making them myself instead of waiting once a year to eat yours."

Valeria laughs. "Trust me Luke, I've been making pies with her for years yet mine never taste anywhere near as good as Ma's."

"I have magic fingers." Abuela shrugs her shoulders smugly. "But still, I would love to teach you how to make them cariño."

And so she does. The next hour is spent teaching me how to make the filling of the apple pie and how to make the dough the perfect consistency and as I'm rolling out the said dough, Isabella strolls into the kitchen, her hair all disheveled and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

She pauses after spotting me in the kitchen and begins patting down her messy bed head hair.

"You're back," she states in a monotoneous way, causing me to smile brightly.

"Hi Belly!" I wave a floury hand. "Your grandma is teaching me how to make pie!"

"Hello," she grumbles before her gaze turns onto abeula.

"I thought I was helping you with the pies!" Bella exclaims, crossing her arms across her chest.

Abuela merely tsks. "Mija you were asleep all this time, we had to start without you!" She explains, stirring the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon. "You can still help though, just get ready and you can help your mom on the pumpkin pie."

She nods begrudgingly before stalking out of the kitchen and arrives back 20 minuets later in a cream turtle neck jumper dress with white socks on her feet, her hair pulled into a bun at the top of her head.

After Bella washes her hands, her mom passes her the bowl containing the dough mixture for the pumpkin pie and moves to the stove next to abuela to begin making the filling.

Isabella keeps her gaze on the bowl in front of her as I keep my eyes trained on her, mindlessly rolling the dough into a ball.

"So how have you been these past few weeks Belly?" I ask, still rolling the dough. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

Bella pauses her mixing and snaps her head to meet my gaze. She narrows her eyes, suspicion lacing her features. "I've been good," she mumbles in reply. "It's been very peaceful."

Ouch. She's insinuating that it's been peaceful without my presence constantly around, pestering her.

"Are you coming to our game next week then?" I continue, gradually inching closer to her. "It's our last game before the semi finals, we're up against Brownstone."

"Yes, I'm coming, I haven't missed any games." She replies curtly. She then pauses for a second, letting silence fill the air before continuing. "Abuela and mom are coming too."

I nod my head, unable to suppress the smile stretching across my face. Abuela and Valeria had come to watch our last home game a couple of weeks ago, Sofia included, although she had cried throughout from what I had heard due to the immensely loud noise - coming mainly from, yep you guessed it, abuela herself.

The Quintero's had managed to pummel their way through the crowds and get the best seats and I could distinctly hear abuela's cheers all the way from the pitch. It did wonders for my adrenaline and it was great to have more support when playing.

I begin to flatten out the dough with my palms. "So how is your lessons? Have you done the History homework yet, it's taking forever for me to complete-"

"Lucas what are you doing?" She interrupts, causing my eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

"Are you genuinely interested in making small talk with me or is this just a ploy to ease yourself into the prodding and annoying me for answers?"

I blink slowly at her. "I'm just talking."

She sighs exasperatedly. "Bro I'm not telling you anything."

Dammit. "I wasn't expecting you to give me any answers," I lie. "I was just making conversation, I haven't talked to you in a while thats all."

She eyes me suspiciously before flirting her eyes back to the bowl. "Okay."

I stay quiet for the next half an hour or so, concentrating on my pie making task.

As I press the flattened dough into the tin Abuela begins to speak to Bella and I, finally breaking the silence and the uncomfortable tension that had filled the air between the two of us.

"I'm going to take a break now, my arthritis is acting up," she tells us, flexing her fingers.

Valeria nods. "Yeah me too, I need to check on Sofia." She turns to look at Bella and I. "You two can manage putting the filling in the pies right?"

"Yep," Isabella replies just as a I nod in agreement.

"Okay once the filling is done, you two can leave it, I'll come back to put the top of the pie on."

The two women promptly exit the kitchen, leaving Isabella and I alone and I grab a spoon and begin pilling the apple filling inside the pastry, sneaking in a taste every now and then.

God damn that tastes good.

Isabella does the same and we continue working in silence for a while...well until I speak up again.

"I know whatever you're upset at me for is for something I did as a kid."

The spoon clutched in her hand clutters down onto the table, spilling pumpkin filling all over the counter. She plucks tissue from the tissue roll and begins promptly cleaning up the mess, her eyes trained on the counter, her cheeks flaming red.

"Why can't you just drop it Lucas," she says sharply, chucking the tissue into the bin and finally raising her head to meet my gaze.

"Because," I groan. "I can't stand the fact of knowing I did something to make you upset and not knowing what the fuck I did  to do so."

"Literally why do you care so much though, we're not even friends like that." Her eyes narrow and a shot of pain shoots through my heart. Ouch.

I cross my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes back at her. "What do you mean we're not friends like that? We've known each other since we were toddlers, I practically know everything about you and you're claiming 'we're not friends like that', what the hell Isabella?"

She shakes her head. "No, you really don't know everything about me."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, turning around so my whole body is facing her. "Why are you being so vague and not giving me a direct answer, it can't have been something that bad if it was from when we were fucking kids! And why are you still mad about it now like 50 years later, I didn't think you were one to hold grudges." My voice comes out louder and much sharper than intended. Panic and anger flashes through Isabella's eyes.

"I can't fucking tell you! I can't!" She practically yells, shaking her head. "Why are you so persistent on this, can't you just fucking respect my decision not to tell you and leave me the fuck alone!"

That stills me. Shit. I had been kind of annoying these past few weeks hadn't I?

"Fine, sorry," I grumble.

"Thank you," she breathes, resting her hands on the counter top. Tension crinkles in the air and I shuffle uncomfortably. I begin picking at the excess pastry dough on the counter just as Isabella clears her throat.

"I'll tell you when I'm ready," she tells me quietly, her voice barely audible.

I nod. "And that is when?"

Isabella throws me an incredulous look and I break out into laughter. "Kidding," I snort and she promptly throws flour onto me in retaliation.

"Idiot," she mumbles under her breath but I see a small smile peeking through.

I flick flour back at her and she shakes her head before turning back to pressing down the pastry dough in the tin.

I dust off the flour from my shirt before dipping my finger into pumpkin filling bowl next to her. I'm about to taste the filling but as I glance at Isabella beside me who is busy and seemingly distracted with her task, an idea pops into my head.

A sly grin plays on my lips as I take the opportunity to grab her face and smear pumpkin filling all over her cheeks.

She promptly smacks my hand away but it's too late, bits of orange are smeared across her tanned cheeks.

As I'm busy laughing I don't notice the clump of apple pie filling being thrown in my direction until it lands smack bang on my shirt.

"Isabella!" I gasp as she giggles like a little kid, wiping away the pumpkin on her face.

I walk over to the other side of the island, grabbing flour from the bag and flinging it across the counter. It showers her in white powder and settles everywhere: on her hair, her face, her clothes and her reaction is silent, her mouth falling open in shock.

And that's when the food fight begins.

She hurdles a mix of cutlery and odd bits of pastry in my direction which I swiftly dodge - her aim is horrible.

I briskly return the gesture, throwing clumps of butter and the odd wooden spoon back at her as she grabs a handful of apple pie filling and chucks it my way.

Our laughter fills the air as the kitchen gets more and more messy, flour raining down all over the counter, the floor and my hair. As I'm about to throw another clump of pumpkin her way a loud gasp snaps me out of the moment.

Isabella and I simultaneously turn our heads towards the doorway where abuela and Valeria stand, their hands on their hips with horrified expressions plastered across their faces. Sofia runs out from behind her mom, giggling at the sight of Bella and I covered in flour and butter and pie filling.

"What on EARTH is going on in here!" Abuela screams and I almost jump out of my skin. Valeria struggles to contain her laughter at my very physical reaction.

"You two are going to clean this mess right now!" Abuela continues and I feel my cheeks flame red. I'm grateful for the flour covering my cheeks so they don't notice my embarrassment.

"Sorry abuela," Bella and I both mumble as she stomps out of the kitchen undeniably grumbling Spanish curse words under her breath.

"We left you in here for two seconds and this is what happens," Valeria sighs, stepping over the clumps of food on the ground and towards the two pies which she picks up and places on the much cleaner side of the counter, away from our mess. She does the same for the pie pastry top thingys and signals for us to begin cleaning promptly before picking up Sofia and dragging her out of the kitchen, the door swinging closed behind her.

"This is your fault," Isabella mutters and my eyes grow wide.

"My fault?" I reply in disbelief. "You were the one who started it!"

She waves her hand dismissively. "Oh whatever let's just get this mess cleaned up."

She pulls out he bin so it's nearer the counter and begins picking up various items from the floor just as my eyes scour the entire kitchen.

My mouth falls open as I take in the mess we made. I didn't realise it was this bad.

Filling is smeared across the walls, the ceiling, the counter, the cupboard - you name it. Mixing bowls and wooden spoons and various other forms of cutlery are stranded across the floor or the island, the entire floor is practically white because of the flour and Isabella is covered in head to toe with a number of ingredients, namely flour.

I can't even imagine what I look like.

I peer down at my black t-shirt too see that it's covered in food and I pull away the material from my skin, grimacing in disgust. I decide to take my shirt off before getting started on cleaning.

As I drop the dirty t-shirt onto the counter, I hear a yelp and look up to see Isabella with her eyes widened.

The bowl she had just picked up clutters to the ground again, letting a clanging sound fill the air.

"What are you doing!?" She questions, forcing herself to look away. "Why are you undressing!"

"Because my shirt is dirty," I explain, amusement lacing my voice. I can't help the sly smirk that plays on my lips at Isabella's flustered expression. "And don't lie, I know you're secretly hyperventilating on the inside seeing me shirtless."

Her reply comes quickly. "NO!" She denies before bending down and swiftly picking up the bowl again. She clears her throat and lowers her voice. "It doesn't bother me at all."

I cock an eyebrow before shrugging. "Okay, then I'm sure you won't mind if I take off my sweats either? They got dirty too."

She shrugs her shoulders, acting nonchalant and unbothered before meeting my gaze and raising her perfectly manicured eyebrows to give me a look as if to say 'I dare you'.

"Go on then, I don't care," she replies, causing my smile to widen.

I shake my head and laugh. "Just kidding I won't, just incase your mom and grandma walk in on me prancing around the kitchen in my boxers."

"We also don't want to traumatise Sofia," she adds, causing me to laugh harder.

"That too."

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AUTHORS NOTE:

Hiiii! Thank you for reading!!! Don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed! Love you all sm - Mai x

P.s one of my fave chapters is coming up hehehe get readdddddddyy ;) It includes drunk mf Lucas ;)

P.p.s thank you so, so much for 9k reads, it means so much to me you don't even understand 🥺