Page 81 of Heartland
“So what?” I demand. “That doesn’t give you the right to be a bitch, Kait. You can say whatever you want to my face. We can have it out. But it’s not cool to be mad at Chastity just because we…” I don’t finish the sentence, because Daphne is trying her best to eavesdrop.
My life is still complicated. I’m trying to dig myself out of this hole, but it isn’t easy.
“The milk is defrosted, Dyl,” Keith says. “And the pans are ready.”
“Okay—you stir Rickie’s pot for a while, and Rickie and I will set up a second one. Daphne, can you dig out the thermometer? It’s somewhere by the vanilla.”
“Of course.”
“What about me?” Kaitlyn asks. That’s her favorite sentence.
“Grab a hairnet,” I grumble. “You can stir, too.”
I grab my phone and try Chastity’s number one more time, but she’s not answering. Maybe she’s mad that I canceled our trip home. Or maybe Leah came to Burlington and took her away for the weekend.
Keith puts on some music. He never leaves home without his tunes. And I get another batch of caramel going.
The first one is just about to temperature when my phone starts ringing on a table somewhere.
“Should I answer that?” Kaitlyn asks.
“No!” I practically shout. If Chastity is finally calling me and Kaitlyn answers, I may not be responsible for my actions. “Who’s calling?”
“It saysCampus Security,” she says. “That can’t be good.”
“Let it go to voicemail,” I decide, vigorously stirring the caramel to keep it from scorching on the sides of the pot. It’s funny how this process seemed like such a miracle the first time Chastity showed me how caramel gets made. And now it’s just another day at the office.
Chemistry. It’s very reliable.
“Is it done?” Rickie asks. “Sure looks done.”
“Timing is everything,” I say. “Pour it off too soon, and it won’t firm up. Leave it on the flame too long, and it will turn into cement. Bring over the first pan, Keith.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
The thermometer spikes to two hundred fifty degrees again, so I stir it down and turn off the flame. Then I grab two potholders and quickly lift the pan off the burner.
“Grab that spoon?” I prompt my friend. I tip the caramel toward the buttered pan, and Keith helps me scrape it out. “Stop now,” I say. “We want to leave the hardening stuff on the walls of the pot.”
“Oooh, can I eat it?” he asks.
“Sure, but give me a second.” The caramel pools into a glossy, beautiful surface in the pan. It’s basically a giant plate of heaven.
“Dude, that’s impressive.”
“Thank you. Chastity taught me everything I know.”
“Aboutcaramel,” Rickie says with a chuckle.
“You hush,” I grumble, just as my phone trills again.
I set down the empty pot and cross the room quickly.BVU Campus Security, my phone’s screen reads.
“Hello?” I answer, eyeing the second pot of caramel, which has begun to thicken under Daphne’s watchful eye.
“Is this Dylan Shipley?”
“It is. Can I help you?”
