Last Cookie

By The Ordinary Girl

Of Stolen Cookies and Introductions - Chapter One

Alexandra

This story starts with a cookie, and a cookie lover; me, being the cookie lover, of course. It probably was an obsession, but even now, I like cookies with a passion and tend not to forgive the people who steal my cookies, or block my path toward a cookie.

Oh, no, it’s not an obsession at all.

Perhaps to be more exact, this story started when I had had a particularly tough day babysitting a pair of rowdy kids who liked to play a game that I was not entirely fond of; attack the babysitter. Ken, who was nine and his brother, Matt, who was six, decided that they were too hungry to attack me by the time noon came around and started poking me for food. I’m sure I received numerous bruises from their unusually sharp fingers. Of course, they didn’t exactly want to eat the spaghetti leftover from the night before either. It was to my relief that with some persuading, hair pulling, and a final clean up time that resulted in only me cleaning up, the seven hour of tiresome babysitting came to an end. The boys’ mother took one glance at me, and paid double the normal price for all my troubles.

Thoroughly exhausted and contemplating my sanity for signing up for the job, I had stayed in my car in front of the house for a few minutes just wondering if I had any strength left to drive. Then, I thought to myself that I desperately needed a reward for surviving all those tomato sauce bombs that were aimed at me by a nine year old kid and his six year old brother who had, unfortunately, too good an aim. So, I dragged my car to the one place I knew had my most favourite thing in the whole world. Gloria’s Bakery’s dark chocolate chip cookies. Mmmm mmm…

The delicious aroma made my stomach growl as I opened the door to the quaint shop. I glanced at the display and saw a single cookie, just waiting to enter my mouth. I hurried to the counter and was about to open my mouth to tell the absolutely wonderful lady behind the counter that I wanted that particular cookie when I heard him, telling his server that he wanted the last cookie too.

The last cookie that was mine. All mine. If I was Gollum, I’m pretty sure I would have shrieked “my precious”.

I turned slowly, a death glare in place. And then my heart stopped, beat again and then stopped once more. Oh man, oh man, oh man, was he ever hot. I mean, boiling to the point where the water in the pan turns to water vapour in a matter of seconds hot. He looked vaguely familiar – well, as in photograph familiar… was he a movie star? My eyes widened as he talked to the girl who was ringing up his totals and laughed a musical laugh at something she said. I stared at him until he noticed me and turned a pair of blue-green eyes at me. When he didn’t look away, I blushed and looked down… to see him holding the – no, my – cookie in his free hand. My eyes immediately narrowed.

I tossed my hair, and raised my eyes to look at him again. He seemed shocked at my sudden change of emotion. He gave me a questioning glance then raised his hand up to… bite into my cookie. I tried to stifle my gasp, and instead a sort of gargle came out. He glanced at me again, looking adorably – I mean, stupidly – confused. I looked down at the delicious object in his hand and then back into his eyes. He looked back at me, contemplated his hand, and then understood, a slight “oh, that’s why she’s like that” expression coming onto his face.

And then, just like that, his mouth twisted upward in a smirk-like grin.

I almost gasped out loud. He was smirking at me! I mean, if I were him, I might do the same, since the cookie does mean quite a lot in that few minute time frame, but how dare he smirk at me! The nerve of some people!

The girl behind the counter handed him his change and he walked away after pocketing the money and receipt. I followed, glaring daggers into his back. There wasn’t any use in staying in the shop anymore, since the cookies were out of stock because someone got the last one.

Oh, I wasn’t being childish at all.

We walked to our cars, the silence so loud I wanted to strangle something. The boy looked at me strangely for a second before closing the trunk of his car – a silver BMW Z4 convertible, which was annoyingly fancier than my red Camry – and headed to where I was, standing next to my car possibly glaring at him. “What do you want?” His voice had a strong British accent.

I stared at him, surprised, but trying to look unperturbed. “Nothing.”

“Then what are you looking at?”

Oh, I think we all know the answer to that one. “Why?” I asked, completely dodging the question.

“Why what?”

“Why should I answer you?”

He looked as if he were about to give up. “Okay, fine. Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, yes you are.”

“Fine, then I won’t.” I got into my red Camry and watched the stupid boy get back, into his BMW and start it. Irritated, I started my car quickly, driven by a sudden idiotic instinct to win a virtual game where maybe I was the only one playing. He got my cookie? Well, I’ll beat him and be the faster in getting out of here.

Maybe, being stuck with two devil kids on a Saturday long week-end hadn’t helped my sanity, but I was ready to rip out of here and smirk back at him. Oh, you don’t ever get on the wrong side of me after I’d just been working for a draining seven hours on a Thanksgiving week-end! Nuh uh.

I bet you can just picture me snapping in a Z-formation.

And I did. Win, and smirk back at him, I mean, I definitely did not snap my fingers at him while driving. Though, that might prove to be an interesting combination to watch, since I wouldn’t even dare trying it. He looked slightly confused by my triumphant grin aimed in his direction as I zoomed by his sports car. I was almost quite literally cackling with glee when I stopped at the stop sign just outside of the little strip mall exit.

Only, I hadn’t predicted hearing the roar of that particular silver car just two or three blocks away from the shop, rushing past my Camry. I almost stopped the car in shock. Apparently two can play the game. I frowned and bit my lip in concentration and stepped harder on the gas pedal. Oh yeah?

I zipped along until I was right next to the BMW and could give him a tight smile. We stopped at the exact same time in front of the red light, staring hard at each other. He had his earlier disgustingly smug smirk on his face, while I probably looked completely frazzled and on the verge of madness. His blue-green eyes glinted in the sunlight as he tilted his head toward the road ahead. He jerked his head forward a couple of times before laughing. I frowned, not understanding what he meant until he rocketed ahead.

Jerk, stupid, idiotic, son of a cow, bastard, I cursed in my head, marveling at the same time, my choice of words.

His car had long gone before I could even press my foot against the gas pedal. I tried to follow, except I had lost sight of him, and it was getting late. Sighing, I headed back to my house to bake some cookies of my own.

So…I’m protective of my cookies which is a skill that comes naturally and only to actual cookie lovers. Yes, there is a real qualification. You really have to know you cookies to be protective of them. I think the expert would know.

I hadn’t seen Mr. Blue-green-eyed-smirking-stealer-of-cookies after that incident at Gloria’s Bakery. But, it did still bother me. The chocolate chunk cookies that I baked afterwards, at home, did help me forget… a tiny bit. Though, I guess I should remember it. I mean, I wouldn’t want to have my cookie stolen again would I?

No, certainly not and definitely not the fresh-out-of-the-oven raisin-oatmeal cookie that I had in my hand right now. Just sniffing in the wonderful scent made the thought of that horrible occurrence with the stealer of cookies completely melt away. I took one bite of the cookie and almost whimpered out loud in ecstasy. I loved my best friend’s mom’s cooking. Ah… pure bliss.

It was the morning of a school day and I was waiting downstairs in the kitchen of my best friend’s house, helping myself to the cookies that her mom offered. Amy was upstairs probably in the middle of her dreary process of blow-drying her blonde hair, wetting it, styling it with the blow-dryer, wetting it and then finishing her face make-up, which I never saw the point of. I kept my chestnut brown hair wavy, and face, make-up free. Sure, I liked to dress up once in a while, but every day spend an hour and a half in getting ready for school? No way, not my cup of tea.

We had a routine for school. Since both of us had our driver’s license, we alternated weeks driving each other and Amy’s brother who was a freshman, to school. This week was my turn, and I had been about to open my mouth and holler the time which was ticking closer and closer to the late bell, when her mom handed me a plate with the still-warm cookie on it. Needless to say, I got distracted.

The last crumbs of the cookie were melting in my mouth when Amy finally tromped down the stairs, shrieking my name and tugging my arm to the car. She shouted a goodbye behind her to her mom. Amy’s brother, Jamie appeared just as we opened the front door to the porch. I greeted him with a smile, which I normally don’t do, unless I was really happy. I was really happy, most probably because I started the morning with the cookie, but it was Friday and only a couple of hours until the weekend and forty-eight hours of freedom. Whooo!

No, I’m not a fan of school. I mean, going to it is only a necessity, unlike cookies. Now, cookies I couldn’t live without, unless they’re really bad cookies, then yes. Anyway, I’m getting off topic. The three of us got out of the car just as the bell rang. Thankfully, it was only the first bell, which meant I had exactly seven minutes to get to my locker and get into home room before Mr. Reilly could mark me late, which unfortunately for me he loves to do. In fact, he particularly loved marking me late and making me in trouble which was a shame, since I had a friend who’s hair-obsessed, and can’t seem to get us to school in time.

I shrugged on my messenger bag and waited for Amy to finish checking herself out in the rearview mirror so that I could lock the car. As usual, her brother gave us a pointed ugh-girls look before rushing off to school with not even a word of thank you.

Oh, I love you as well.

It was to my relief that I managed to get my books and slide into my seat just as the late bell rang. Mr. Reilly was already in his seat, surveying a stack of papers on his desk. When I entered and clambered into my seat, which was thankfully close to the door, he raised his beady little eyes to watch me hurry to get settled, smirking ever so slightly. “In a bit of a rush today, aren’t we, Miss Jennings?” he said to me in his snotty voice.

“It was Amy as usual, Mr. Reilly,” I answered, matching his polite but frosty tone.

His eyes ran over my appearance before meeting my eyes once more and then turned to order the class to be quiet. I heaved a sigh as he called out attendance, thinking how lucky I was to have trigonometry after lunch. I mean, it wasn’t as if I was a bad student, and didn’t comprehend math. Maybe I could even be considered to be the only one in the class who actually understood the math, and succeeded in the subject. It was just Mr. Reilly who for some unknown reason disliked me.

The bell rang again, signaling the start of first period. I gave in to another sigh as I took out my English notebook and grabbed a pen, getting ready to take some notes.

Plopping down beside Amy, I breathed in deeply. Ah, the sweet smell of lunch, after a morning of school…

All around me, my friends chattered on about whatever they talk about, which is most probably boys, fashion and boys. Unwrapping my sandwich and without looking at it, I bit into it, my face already in place for the awaiting wonderful taste of lunch. To my complete and utter surprise, the first thing I tasted was egg, and then the smell reached my nose.

“EW! EW! EW!” I dropped the sandwich on the table. I plugged my nose and swung away from the table, trying to keep from throwing up all over the place. “Who on earth? WHY?!”

Most of the people in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing to stare at me. I stared back, confused for a second as to why they were all staring at me. Then, I remembered and blushed a bright tomato red before ducking my head and wishing that the Earth would swallow me whole.

Typical.

When I finally lifted my eyes to check, I was met with many pairs of amused eyes. I straightened, keeping a fake smile on my face as the occupants of my table smiled – some smirked – back. “So,” I said, way too brightly, “what do you all have for lunch?”

It was Amy who giggled first, and then the rest of the table burst out in laughter, as I sat there, still as confused as ever. “Oh,” Amy gasped, “you’re the best, Alexandra Jennings!” I frowned, and then grinned.

We were half-way through lunch – I was deliberately avoiding my egg-salad sandwich which was wrapped in a paper bag and tossed around by the girls’ boyfriends in a heated game of attack each other with Alexandra’s lunch – when I finally noticed someone missing. “Where’s Riana?” I asked. Amy glanced up, puzzled as well. I hadn’t seen my other good friend all morning when we were supposed to have Chemistry together.

“Oh, I know,” Mia answered, too busy with her stick-y eye technique with a boy across the room to really focus. The auburn-colour haired beauty giggled, looking seductively at the poor boy who had never stood a chance.

Amy and I looked at each other. My friend shrugged. “Um, Mia?” I asked tentatively.

“Yeah?” she said, still a bit occupied.

“Where is Riana?”

“Oh, you know how she is…” She swatted at the air, still eyeing the boy.

“What is she like?” Amy asked.

“You know the stuff she does? Like, that whole president-y thing, being school spirited, ambassador thing?” She giggled again.

“So, she’s showing a new kid around.”

“…Yeah, that.”

Amy rolled her eyes at me, and I did the same to her. I leaned over to Mia. “Why don’t you just go over and ask him out or something?”

She finally focused her attention at me, looking shocked. “Why, Alex, I could never do that!”

I frowned. “Why not?”

Lauren stepped in. “It’s just like romance one-oh-one.”

“What?”

Lauren combed her blonde hair into a ponytail. “You wouldn’t understand, Alex.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“A girl never goes up to a guy,” Amy said gently.

I really didn’t understand. “Why not?”

“It’s just…not how it works…” Mia said, seeming to wonder about it as well. “I mean, it just is. Like Lauren said, you wouldn’t understand.”

Wow, thanks guys. But they were right. I’ve never actually dated, or had a boyfriend, unlike all of them, who have at least dated a random guy now and then. I just hadn’t ever been interested in the whole boy-girl-dating thing. I had friends who were of the opposite gender, but never, touch-y, oh I love you, boyfriends… “That just sounds stupid.”

“So, what are you going to do about Max?” Amy asked Mia.

“Aw, Mia and Max, the names go with each other!” Lauren squealed.

“I don’t know,” Mia answered in hush tones. “Like, it’s been like this for a while now. And we have, like, two classes together… and band.”

“I feel so left out,” I muttered.

Of course, they just had to ignore me.

“I think, considering how far this eye-thing has gone on, if you drop some hints, he might ask you out,” Amy suggested.

Lauren teased, “Or, you can do as Alex said, ask him yourself!”

“Hey!” I grimaced. It did sound kind of a bad thing to do once she said it like that. “Just because I haven’t dated anyone,” I continued, my voice getting a bit louder, “doesn’t mean that asking him straight on is a bad idea!”

“Really?” a deeper voice cut in. “You haven’t dated anyone?”

“Yes,” I said, distracted, “Mia, I think you should just go ahead and ask him.” It was silent for a second. The three girls looked behind me, and then back at me. Amy smiled apologetically. Confused, I turned and saw a person standing behind my chair. I looked up first to see a smirk, and then very familiar blue-green eyes.

“But,” he continued, “that might have been the reason why you were like that in the shop.” My eyes widened. “I wouldn’t know…”

“Um,” a voice cleared, and our friend Riana poked her head from behind him. “Hey everyone… This is Nat, who’s come to us from Great Britain. Um, Nat, this is everyone… Lauren, Amy, Mia an-”

“I’m Alex, Alexandra. Do I know you?” I butted in. Wondering where he was from, I squinted my eyes at him as if it would help me remember. He seemed so familiar… He just grinned.

“So, yeah… if you ever need help, Nat, these are my friends. They’ve been around a bit, so you can always ask them…” Riana continued, being the responsible ambassador of our school. Unlike me, I was staring at him, unblinking. I looked at his eyes and then… oh beaver dam.

“You’re the one who stole my cookie!”

A/N: So, today is May 3rd, 2008. As of today, The Ordinary Girl shall be starting a new story, and sticking with it until the very end. No, she has not forgotten her other stories, but they are deeply in need of rewriting. That is why they have been deleted and shall only be found on FictionPress when The Ordinary Girl has almost finished this story. At the same time, this author promises herself that she will update as soon as possible, and that all the chapters shall be at least four pages long, font Arial Narrow and size twelve. Although, she does have one fan fiction that desperately needs revising and updates, so she shall try her hardest. After all, there is only a little over a month left of school. This story shall be written as much as she possibly can. She would like to thank her betas (her friends from school who have given their full support). Lastly, the author would like to tell her readers that reviews (any sort, especially constructive criticism) are greatly appreciated.

P.S. The Ordinary Girl doesn’t understand why she is talking in third person, but since she is capable of doing so, why not?