Page 47 of Even After Sunset

“Kay… we need oats,” he says.

I squeeze behind him toward the extra food storage shelves in the front.

“On it.”

After I deposit the large tupperware onto the counter, he immediately starts measuring.

“So, do you make cookies every day after school or something?” I laugh, “Caus this sure doesn’t seem like your first rodeo.”

He dumps the first cup of oats into the bowl, then measures out another one.

“I worked in the kitchen at Trenton.”

“You baked in juvie?”

“Yeah.” He dumps the second scoop of oats. “For over a year. Three afternoons a week. Sometimes on Sundays.”

I lean against the counter, watching him; hungry for any tidbit of information about his life these past few years.

“Huh. What kind of stuff?”

“A lot of casseroles and soups, mostly. Pasta… grilled cheese. Lots of cookies.” He grins. “Clearly.”

“Clearly.”

“Mostly chocolate chip, though. None of this oatmeal raisin hippie shit.”

I push away from the counter. “I expect great things from the chocolate chip portion of the afternoon, then.”

“Well, I won’t burn them,” he says, containing a grin. “So that’ll be an improvement right there.”

I roll my eyes. He isn’t going to let me live that one down.

Once I’ve put the oats away, I resume my perch against the counter; far enough from him that I’m not in his way, but close enough to watch any emotions flit across his face.

“What did you do to get sent away?” I ask tentatively. “To juvenile hall, I mean.”

“Got busted breaking into a convenience store, and was a wee bit resistant when the cops tried to arrest me.”

“Oh… Wow.” I watch his face for any telltale emotions, but nothing. “What were you stealing from the convenience store?”

“Liquor…” The corner of his mouth quirks. “… and a Mars bar.”

I roll my eyes.

The confession reminds me again that our lives back home are a million miles apart. We might as well live in different worlds.

“Geez,” I muse. “You really have a thing for stealing chocolate bars.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You should hit a Costco next time… They have family-size boxes of Mars bars.”

He grins. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We’re quiet for a while as he concentrates on measuring out the last ingredients.

“So what was it like?” I ask after a while. “Trenton?”

---