Page 5 of Drawn to You
“I am!” he says with a chuckle. “You may hang your clothes in the closet. It’s empty.”
He slides the door of the closet open for me. It’s got a shelf and a hanging rod.
“Okay, thanks.” I open the lid of my suitcase to do just that.
“Are you hungry? I’m going to make us dinner.” Andrew asks before getting out of my room.
I shake my head. “Not really. That burger is probably enough to last throughout the night.”
“I’ll make a salad for both of us,” he says.
“Sounds good. Do you need help?”
“No. I got it.”
While unpacking, I call my mom and dad to tell them about my day in LA. The moment I hang up the call, I hear Andrew’s voice telling me dinner is ready.
When I go to the kitchen, my mouth opens. I was expecting two bowls of salad, but on the oval glass dining table sit a large crystal bowl with a mixture of greens garnished with beets, corn kernels, and shredded carrots. It looks like a colorful vegetable garden. On a separate plate, there are walnut pieces and almond slices.
“I don’t think you’re allergic to any nuts, but just in case,” he says, explaining the nuts on the side.
“I’m not,” I say, gulping because my mouth waters. “Wow. This is a deluxe salad!”
Andrew chuckles. “What dressing would you like? I’ve got quite a collection.”
He opens the fridge door for me to check, and I gasp. He isn’t kidding. The door shelf is lined with an assortment of salad dressing bottles—at least twenty of them, ranging from the standard types that I’m familiar with to the rarer ones from health food stores. I read the labels carefully: Honey Miso, Balsamic Peanut Butter, Avocado Lemon, and Zesty Salsa.
I have trouble making up my mind in front of so many choices. “I don’t know,” I look up at him helplessly. “Which one is good?”
“They’re all good. Do you like spicy?”
“Yes,” I nod.
“Then try the Zesty Salsa.”
“Okay,” I pick the bottle.
Andrew opens a bottle of beer for himself and pours a glass of water for me because I don’t care so much for beer.
I squeeze a large dollop of dressing onto my plate and mix the salad. Andrew chooses the Honey Miso, and he lets me try it before digging into his salad.
“Mmm, it’s so good!” I say after swallowing down the Sweet and aromatic. It tastes very different from the soup made of the same seasoning I had a while ago at a Japanese restaurant, which was only salty.
And then I shove a mouthful from my plate. I barely taste it when I swallow it down and groan.
“It’s so spicy!” I stick out of my tongue while fanning my hand.
Andrew chuckles as he hands me a glass of ice water. “Are you okay? I thought you liked spicy?”
“I do,” I say after the spiciness subsides a bit. “But this is too much.”
“Okay, you might want to try something else. You want to switch with me?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
As I munch on the salad, a strange sensation washes over me. I’ve never been so close to Andrew. I’ve been to his and Dana’s house as a child, but I’ve never been alone with him. There were always other people around, Dana or their parents. Now it’s just him and me having dinner in his house. It’s like a dream come true, except it feels very different from the dreams I’ve had in the past when I fantasized about him.
I used to picture Andrew and me strolling hand-in-hand along the creek in Clover Valley or biking together on a country road, and there would be a pink haze in those pictures. Andrew was always handsome, but he never spoke a word to me. It was like in a silent romance film. But at the moment, he is so real and so familiar I feel as if we are a married couple. I nearly giggle at the thought. Andrew and I—a married couple? Jeez. I need to seek some professional help!
