Alison stayed for dinner that night or rather made dinner that night, Dad offered for her to stay and upon my asking what we were having she offered to make it. Both dad and I blatantly refused but she insisted by saying that she loved to cook and walking into the kitchen. I felt obligated to at least help her so I followed quickly after once again leaving dad barely aware of what was going on outside the kitchen.
"Umm, would you like a hand?"
"Sure," she said.
"I'll just let you know now, that my mum was the cook of the family and I inherited none of her skill in the kitchen."
She laughed "Don't worry, we're only making spaghetti, and that's simple."
"Still," I warned "don't be surprised if a fire breaks out at some point."
She pulled a fire extinguisher out from the cupboard underneath the sink "I've got it covered."
I laughed and washed my hands.
She had me chop vegetables and I had a feeling that it was the easiest and least dangerous of the tasks in making spaghetti because what she was doing seemed to require a higher skill level. There was mince simmering in the pan and pasta boiling on the stove. I learned later, that this didn't require much skill at all just the ability to refrain from touching hot things or the ability to not touch hot things accidentally.
When I'd finished with the vegetables, she asked if I would like to help make garlic bread.
"Sure," I said "I'll get it from the fridge."
"The fridge?" she asked.
"Yeah, we keep it in there," I pulled out a pack of premade garlic bread that only needed to be placed in the oven for fifteen minutes.
"I was thinking that we should make our own, it's not very hard."
"Can't be very easy," I said "I never knew that making garlic bread was even possible."
She smirked "How then, did you think people made the frozen stuff in your fridge."
I didn't have the faintest clue "Umm."
"We start by putting a record on," she giggled.
"I've never seen that in any recipe for anything."
"Well it's in my recipe."
I laughed "What would you like to listen to?"
She sauntered over to the record cabinet and plucked a dusty one from a pile that had once belonged to mum. It was Spirit in the Sky by Doctor & the Medics. She told me about how it was such a good song and that it was a shame no one listened to it anymore and that more people should.
"I hate this song," I declared.
She rolled her eyes "Yes, our music tastes seem to be quite different but since we are Yin & Yang…"
Smiling I replied "I have a reason for hating this song."
"Oh pray tell."
"I don't believe in God."
"Neither do I," she replied immediately.
My face once again contorted to confusion "You do realise this is a religious song?"
"Yes but just because I'm not religious doesn't mean it's not a good song, I mean it's one of the only religious songs I know of that made it to number 1."
"This made it to number 1?!"
She burst out laughing "The look of horror on your face is unbelievable."
Once she calmed down she asked me to dance but I explained to her that dancing was not only pointless but really hard and also that I sucked at it. She rolled her eyes and walked into the living room…and didn't come back. I walked in to find her dancing and laughing with my father. My own father who hadn't danced, sung or even listened to music at all in the past year was now dancing with a girl who seemed to confuse him more than anything. I sat down on the couch with my mouth agape unable to tear my gaze from the scene; there was something inherently weird about it that made you want to look. The song came to a close and Dad left the room while Alison twirled over to me, holding out her hand.
"I told you. I can't dance…" I whined.
"Oh come on…please?" she begged.
I groaned and she mimicked and I mimicked back and then she mimicked again and we continued to mimic each other's groans for a consecutive five minutes, until Dad came in. He emitted an exasperated sigh accompanied by another confused look and moved through to the kitchen.
The two of us laughed. "Your Dad always seems to walk in at the awkwardest moments."
"Yeah," I chuckled.
"Now let's dance," she demanded.
"You really wanna start that again?" she moved to the record player and placed the needle on a 45 "Just follow my lead."
I held back another groan as she took my hand.
The music started and she moved her foot, mine following suit. She smiled at me and we twirled across the room dodging the tables and shelves as we went. I moved rigidly and was completely unsure of what I was doing, my feet dug into the ground during our movements and accidently landed on her own feet more than once, making her cringe. I would utter my apologies quickly and her laughter sounded after. At some point during the song I managed to twist my legs around each other and began to topple toward the floor, my hands unclenching from Alison's.
My eyes turned so I could see the table hurtling toward my head. The last thing I remembered after that was thinking 'Oh excellent' in a sarcastic yet panicked way and then hearing a crack toward the top of my skull and then the pain shooting through me and then hearing a muffled feminine scream over the blood pounding in my ears and then darkness.
So what will happen to poor Oliver? You'll find out soon.
I hope you enjoyed that chapter, if you have time let me know what you thought in a review. I accept constructive critism but use flames to light scented candles.
Also, I have a general idea of what I'm going to do with this story but any ideas will definitely be taken into consideration. If you have any suggestions of anything you'd like to see in the story whether it be something as simple as Oliver watching his favourite T.V show or something as detailed as your own plotline let me know!
Thanks for reading!