Page 31 of Baking Battles

“Don’t you find this weird?” Christopher asks, pushing the pram like he owns it. Effortlessly steering with one hand and using the other to tug his beanie further down over his forehead. It’s snowing again, this time vertical gusts of icy flakes that make your skin feel like it’s being attacked by tiny angry razorblades.

“What? Having to walk home in this shite weather, because you won’t go on an empty train? A nice warm bus? And before you ask, a Taxi is a no, because we have no car seat for Emi.” Mattias is shuffling a few steps behind, trying to adjust the hood on the pram so he can get as much cover as he can to fit over the opening. Emi, flat out asleep, not even moving as he tries to zip her cosytoes up and tuck them neatly under her chin.

“No, this. Us. Me, latching onto you like some stalker ,and just taking you for granted like this. People tend to find it weird if they don’t know me, and I just want to apologise if you do. My Dad is driving up tomorrow to pick me up for the weekend, so I will be out of your hair for a while. Promise.”

“Oh.” Mattias says, and his face probably tells a million truths. He probably looks all awkward in the dull light from the streetlights. He is sure his face is flaming red with something he can’t quite describe. It’s getting stupid, this Christopher effect, the way he goes straight into meltdown on the inside, as soon as the man opens his mouth.

“But you were going to tell me about you crushing on me?” He sounds like a twat. I mean, this is Mattias Strømme, who regularly chairs major meetings and handles millions of kroner in budgets and has been known to make grown men cry when pitching ideas to him. Well Danijel cries every time, but that’s all for show, he knows that. And now he is begging for this guy to tell him about some stupid teen crush. Well, no one crushed on Mattias, not even Sara. She has always been honest about not fancying him from the start. That she has just messed around with him and he put up with it. Liked it. Well, liked the attention. Some of it.

“It’s embarrassing Mattias, I see that now. You know when you make something up in your head and make it bigger than it is? Well, that’s what I did. I took something I really wanted to be true, and made it into something that wasn’t. I was young and you know…”

“Christopher. Stop.”

“I’m not going to embarrass you more than I already have. I crushed on you badly, and you didn’t even know I existed. It’s fine Mattias. I will get over it, I just thought. Well. Never mind. Let’s change the subject.”

“No!” Mattias almost shouts out, because he needs to know. It’s too big not to know. And then in a non-selfish way, he can see Christopher is embarrassed, when he shouldn’t be.

“Please.” Christopher almost whispers, grabbing the handle, and pushing the pram with more determination as they start to climb the damn hill leading up towards the botanical gardens.

“Look.” Mattias almost screeches out, before he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “Stop, Christopher. Just stop for a second. Okay? Because I have something I need to say.”

He grabs Christopher’s arm and almost violently pushes his foot down on the pram brakes. His foot, of course, missing the pedal and his whole body stumbling as he jerks the pram into place on the pavement and steadies himself.

Christopher just stands there, looking terrified again. And fuck it, if it doesn’t make Mattias feel all protective and sad and muddled up and, well. He straightens his shoulders and goes for it, trying to keep his voice stern and steady.

“One week and a bit ago, my life was fine. I had everything all under control and everything was fine. Just fine. Okay? Then you turn up and everything just began to unravel.Like my whole life has just spun totally out of control. Completely. I have no way of stopping it, and I can never go back now. People are talking and rumours are everywhere and I just don’t know what to do apart from running with it.” Mattias has to stop and breathe again.

“Welcome to the world of showbiz.” Christopher says sarcastically. “You say, “A,” and then someone else says, “B,” and suddenly, C is all over social media. Get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to anything. I just want to be happy, Christopher. I want to be fucking happy and it feels like I have never really got the chance to live and do all these things that I wanted to do, and now it’s like someone has smashed open all these ideas in my head, and I don’t know how to deal with all that.”

“You’ve lost me now.” Christopher looks all confused again, and Mattias tugs at his knitted hat, pulling it off his head, only to push it back down over his hair as he pants. This. This is the kind of shit he is crap at. This and touching and feeling and showing affection and… Yeah. Talking about feelings and shit.

“Then please tell me about it. Tell me about this crush, because I need to understand. I need to know what the hell this is all about!” And now Mattias is shouting.Great.

“Please don’t shout at me.” Christopher almost whispers. “Can we please just get home? I don’t think I can manage to tell you anything whilst we are standing here getting battered by the snow. My jeans are wet and I’m cold.”

Inconsiderate and rude. Again. Yeah. That’s Mattias. Bulldozing over people he works with, so he can get what he wants.

They don’t really talk as they negotiate the labyrinth of paths running off Tøyengata where the lights from the passing apartments shine homely and inviting. Apart from Mattias’s flat, as his windows are dark and cold.

They almost have a routine for this now,where Christopher puts the pram away and Mattias sorts Emi, tucking her into the middle of their unmade bed, still wearing the clothes she’s been in all day, the stains on her front showing the full evidence of her chocolate-fuelled encounter with Ida, and there is flour still caked on her sleeves. She snores like a trucker as he tiptoes out into the living room, passing Christopher wearing just his T-shirt and boxers again.

“I hung my jeans up over the bath. They should be dry in the morning.” he says, with no hint of anything in his voice.

“There are tumble dryers in the basement. We can just go down and they will be dry in an hour.” Mattias says. He needs a drink. He needs a hug. He needs anything right now. Anything to clear this damn tension he has created. Not that he knows what to do about it, or what he could have done differently, because his whole life is such a bloody mess right now.

“Do you want me to leave?” Christopher replies. Yeah, because Mattias isn’t exactly doing anything to fix this.

“Do you want a drink? I have whiskey. I think. I should have whiskey. I never drink when I have Emi, but I think we need a drink.” Mattias is stomping around probably slamming the kitchen cabinet doors a little too loudly, finding two glasses and sliding the ice drawer out from the freezer, plopping two cubes in each glass. Leaning against the counter to gather himself a little. He needs to chill. He needs. Fuck, he needs a lot of fucked-up stuff. He needs to breathe. Deep and slow. Instead, he pours two large measures of whiskey and screws the lid back on the bottle with a twist of his fingers.

Christopher is standing in the living room, right where he left him.

“Cheers.” Mattias says, and hands Christopher his glass, letting his clink against the other.

“Jesus, Mattias, a bit of courage for when you tell me to fuck off?” Christopher almost stutters.

“You are such an idiot.” Mattias replies, and pretty much drains his glass.

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