Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
There is something wrong with me, with my ovaries. When it comes to Toren Cromwell, my ovaries are now firmly off-limits. We’ve had enough wild adventures where those are concerned.
“I’m glad,” I say dryly to cover up for the way my heart is hammering, and my chest is aching. “I always knew you weren’t really a robot.”
I pull out the big pot, which I like to call The Spaghetti Spectacular, the small pot for the sauce, and the frying pan, which is known as The Bad Bottom Meatball Miracle Maker. I don’t even know when I came up with those names. I guess it was six months ago when Milo was bored, and I wanted to jazz up dinner.
To that, Toren does his best version of a stiff walk, swinging his arms around in mechanical motions. Oh, okay. He’s acting like a robot. I get it. He even talks funny in a nasally, electronic voice when he says, “My name is Toren The Terrific, Dinner Maker Robot and Worker Of Wonders. How can I help you, human master?”
Laughter is welling up in my throat, but I really don’t want to let it out. I have no idea who this Toren is and what he did with the guy I knew five years ago. Toren Cromwell of the past was against any and all forms of play, and he was definitely above humiliation. I didn’t know he had this side to him. He was always so serious. So, so serious. I used to pride myself on getting him to laugh. It was a skill I had that not many others did, his cousins and grandma not included since they could always get him going. Usually, they’d annoy the hell out of him first and wear him down that way, then go for broke.
Man, thinking about Toren’s cousins makes me miss them as much as I miss his grandma. I wonder if his cousins are married now and if any of them have kids. Does Milo have cousins? Why did I never think about this before? Oh right, because I planned on Milo never knowing that side of his family, considering it would be a lot less soul-crushing for him.
I fill the spaghetti pot with water, grab the meatballs from the freezer, and pull out the jar of sauce. “You want to help?” It’s a challenge because Toren sucks at cooking. He never could read his way into making miraculous meals.
“Yes,” he says, dropping the robot guise. “Sure.”
“Okay.” I hoist myself up on the counter and sit there, my legs dangling over the edge. This is going to be fun. “Go for it.”
He eyes the food on the counter dubiously.
“Oh. Spaghetti’s in the pantry over there.” I point. “If you need any pointers, just ask. I’m all about making this a success, seeing as I’m starving.”
“You intentionally want to torture me. When I start burning things and making them inedible, you’ll still be hungry.”
“Nope. There’s always PB and J or ice cream.”
“You can’t have ice cream for dinner!”
I put my index finger and thumb to my chin. “Hmm, let’s see. If I asked Milo if we could, and we took a vote, I think you’d be roundly trounced. Anyway…” I bring my hand down and join it with my other, cracking and flexing my fingers. “Better get started on it if we want to eat this side of the century. Pasta water at high heat, then put the pasta in when the water boils, and turn it down to medium. Give it about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, put the meatballs in at medium heat and turn them when they start browning. Do it more often when they really get sizzling. Next, the sauce goes in the small pot, but don’t turn it on until everything is almost done. Then, use just a little lower than medium heat, or it will bubble up and spray all over the place. Also, make sure you test the spaghetti to make sure it’s not hard as a rock. It can be tricky. Oh, and some margarine in the water before it boils will make sure the spaghetti won’t stick together. A little salt too.” I hop off the counter. “I’m going to help Milo with his room. He’s hopeless at cleaning up, and if I don’t go, library books will be lost, disasters will occur, and black holes will open. Try not to burn the place down? I’m awfully fond of it.”
“Arghh,” Toren responds.
I make a fast getaway down the hall, but at the back of my mind is Toren—large, wild, and mountainy in my kitchen. He’s probably seen every inch of this place. What if he peeked into my bedroom earlier? It’s not like the door has a lock on it. I have to imagine that by now, he’s further improved his living situation and now likely inhabits a mansion.