Page 12 of The Change Up
My phone vibrates in my pocket pulling me from another zombie being slayed.
Brynn: Sorry to hear about the tournament.
Me: It’s all good. Fucking sucks, but I’ll live.
Brynn: You will! Look at it this way, now you have a chance to think about your perfect girl and let your bestie know all the traits you’re looking for so I can find you the perfect woman.
Me: Baseball is the only thing I need. What’s with you trying to constantly set me up?
Brynn: I want someone to double date with!
Me: Bored with Q already?
Brynn: Never. Look I know this is going to be your year, but don’t forget to have some fun. There’s more to life than baseball. Why not try and find a girl to actually date?
Me: Not gonna happen, B. Stay warm this weekend.
Brynn: Don’t worry, Q will keep me warm.
Me: Gross. Chloe go home?
Brynn: No, she’s at the townhouse, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of her.
Locking my phone screen, I tap it against my thigh as I let Brynn’s words replay in my head. Knowing Chloe, she’s got her nose in a book and is completely ignoring the world around her.
But what if she’s not okay?
What if she let her battery drain and now she’s stuck at home, alone, in the middle of an ice storm? If it were my sister stuck alone in an ice storm, I would want someone checking in on her. As much as I want to stay inside and avoid the shitty weather, I can’t sit here and worry about her all night. Which I know I will, even though my mind shouldn’t be on Chloe Mariano.
This has been the longest afternoon ever.
After receiving the worst news of the semester, I spent the last two hours fighting with every Texan as we all prepped for the ice storm that is supposed to arrive sometime this evening. I’m exhausted, frustrated, and completely spent.
So what am I currently doing? Casually doing some baking and cooking because the store was completely out of bread.
Why is it that when a natural disaster threatens, everyone stocks up on bread? Nonetheless, I didn’t want to be left out, and thankfully the store had plenty of ingredients to make my own loaf at home.
For the past hour, I’ve been listening to my romantic suspense Mafia audiobook while preparing food in case we lose power. And let’s face it, I’m blowing off some steam. While my dough has been rising, I made a pot of vegetable soup that is simmering on the stove. All I want right now is a bowl of soup and crunchy bread. Comfort food and cold nights just go hand and hand.
Wind beats against the windows and our glass patio doors. The first sound of ice hits the glass, and I jump. I’m so glad I made it through the store when I did. There’s no reason for anyone to be out in this mess. Ice is no joke, especially for a Texan, and you won’t catch me out until this weather passes through.
While I was at the store I received a text from our landlord letting me know that he was entering our apartment to do a few storm preparations. He dropped off a small box of supplies: flashlights with extra batteries, a battery-operated radio, and a first aid kit. It wasn’t a lot, but it was helpful.
Since Brynn is staying at Quinton’s, she told me to pull her comforter off her bed for an extra layer for me. My dad offered to bring me a generator, but I told him to not even think about getting on the road. While he was concerned that I wouldn’t have power, I convinced him that I would be fine without electricity, but I wouldn’t be fine if something happened to him. He finally agreed. With it being just the two of us, it doesn’t take too much convincing—for either one of us—to always take precautions.
I’ve gathered all of my candles and spread them throughout the apartment. I’ve never been more thankful for my obsession. And the fact I only like a handful of scents is a blessing in disguise so when they’re all lit, I won’t have scent overload.
The timer on my phone goes off, startling me since I’ve been lost in the words the narrator has been speaking, and I reach for the covered bowl the dough has been rising in. Digging the mixture out of the bowl, I plop it onto the flour-covered counter. Kneading the mixture, I work the flour until I have the right consistency. Just as I reach for the olive oil dispenser, the power cuts out.
Tonight was not the night to listen to a suspenseful audiobook.
Complete darkness takes over the entire apartment. I’m left standing with dough and flour-covered hands. Slowly I inhale a deep breath before a long exhale.
This is fine. The stove is gas, and I can still finish everything as planned. Only I didn’t think about lighting any candles ahead of time. Tapping my hand across the counter, I seek out my phone to turn on the flashlight. The light filters into the kitchen, allowing me to see just enough to ignite the stove. Quickly, I oil the cast iron before placing the dough inside. Placing the lid on, I set the Dutch oven on the burner to bake.
I’m halfway through washing the sticky dough off my fingers when there’s a knock on the front door.
This is a scene out of every horror movie. A girl is home alone. The power suddenly goes out. The girl goes searching for the breaker. Thenbamsomeone attacks said girl. While I know my situation is a little different, I can’t help but notice the timing is impeccable.
