With that look on his face she wasn't sure she was any kind of boy. She giggled at him and hopped off the counter she was sitting on. "Oooo. It looks awesome." She reached out to take the book and waited while Bobby decided whether or not he could trust her with it.
"I dunno. Let's make something delicious. Something snacky!" She didn't know what sort of things they had in the kitchen to cook with, or what recipes he might have in his book.
"Breakfast cupcakes are a winner. Or spicy egg rolls! They're kinda just deep fried mini enchiladas." He turned the book on it's side and started flipping through it, looking for a particular picture he'd cut out of one of his mom's magazines and stuck in there.
"Jalapeño Pumpkin Pie?" He found the picture, and turned the book around to show Marina. "We can make snack size ones if we use a muffin tray?"
His favourite! They weren't spicy, but they had bacon and that was just as good. "Okay so they're like french toast, but cupcakes, and maple syrup frosting with candied bacon on top." He was getting hungry just thinking about it.
"Here," he flipped to the back of the book, having nearly memorized where all the recipes fell in it. "We need butter, sugar, flour..." He trailed off and started hunting in the industrial fridge. "Are there eggs in the basket?"
It sounded good even if it wasn't breakfast time. "You're going to own your own restaurant someday," she asserted. She made herself busy puttering about the kitchen gathering up ingredients and depositing them on the counter.
She peered in the basket and found a few eggs. "They're brown. Is that okay?" She really had no idea; she only ever ate the end product of eggs.
"I watched Ratatouille, and decided that if I'm a cartoon character I am that rat." He poked his head out of the fridge and grinned at Marina. "Once I grow whiskers, I'm all good. Brown's good." He grabbed a pitcher of milk.
"We should make chocolate milkshakes to go with them. Or iced coffee!" Make a proper breakfast of it.
"I saw that one too. I'm Linguini. Completely hopeless." She sighed dramatically. Then stepped over to him and brushed her finger along his upper lip. "Thought you were getting whiskers," she teased with a bright giggle.
"Brown is good! she repeated and picked out a few brown eggs to set on the counter. "Chocolate coffee milkshakes!" she demanded. "Need my pep for the game tonight! Are you coming to watch us cheer, or what?"
He almost dropped the milk when she touched his face, and grabbed it tight to his chest, flustered. "Well, yeah, but..." He blinked like deer in headlights. "I said. I have to cheer for Sam... 's cheering."
Great. At least he'd pre-squished the butter? "Can you put the oven on 375?"
"I get it," she said emphasizing how very sad that made her feel. "Can't get in the middle of the bromance." She giggled. "Cheering for cheerleaders. Oh Bobby."
"I sure can." She skipped over to the oven and set it to the right temperature. "Do we need muffin tins?" She looked around the kitchen unhelpfully. She could barely find her way around her kitchen at home.
Bobby wasn't going to deny the existence of the bromance. It was there, everyone knew it, and it was awesome. He just blinked after Marina after she danced away to the oven.
"They're in the drawer under the ovens. And the liners are in the cupboard up next to it." An amused little smile flickered over his face as he watched her pull out pan after pan, trying to find a muffin tin amongst the loaves and pies and trays and bundts. "I'll get the mixer set up."
Marina pulled out every other pan under the oven before she managed to find the muffin tins. She plopped down and began to sort the rest back in. "Did these go in an order?" she asked with a bemused look. "Cause I don't think they're fitting right." It was like opening a tent bag and then trying to shove the tent back in after using it.
There was one girl who insisted on putting things in alphabetically: Angel Food on top of Bundt on top of loaves, then muffin trays, pie tins and flat ones on the bottom. He preferred to put the smaller tins inside the bigger ones and then tetris them in however they fit.
"The flat stuff fits best at the bottom," he instructed her helpfully as he got out a few of the bowls for the mixer and inspected the beaters to make sure they'd been properly cleaned. "And if the tins are sticking near the top of the drawer, sometimes it helps if they're upside down. Except the upside down cake pan; that one should be right way up. Which is upside down for it."
She took out the few pans she'd shoved back in and started again. Putting the flat ones in first she layered the pans so the fit better, listening to Bobby distractedly. "What on earth?" she asked about the upside pan being right side up. It didn't matter, she managed to get it back in the drawer.
"Okay. What do you need me to do now?" she asked as she wiped her hands on the back of her jeans and headed over to him.
"We whip the eggs back and forth." He looked at her seriously. "You know there is more singing and dancing in here than in Choir and Dance combined? Can't make milkshakes without someone singing. Can't whip stuff without someone flinging their hair around. Crazy."
He separated some eggs with the deft hand of someone who had done it a million times before and could probably do it in his sleep. "We turn these into snow mountains and then add butter and sugar. You do that, and I'll sift the other stuff."
She watched him separate the eggs with serious admiration. "What do you want me to sing?" she teased. She was pretty good, but she didn't sing in the choir at CCI. "We could do a frappe duet."
She wasn't as confident in her ability to add in butter and sugar without seriously screwing it up. She had a feeling she'd end up standing in a cloud of sugar spinning out of the mixer.
She picked up the measured ingredients and started adding them in little chunks. "I'm going to get muffin all over me, aren't I?"
He shrugged. "I'm sure we can find someone to eat it off you." The cup of flour he was holding went flying as he realized how that sounded. And she was worried she was going to make a mess. He winced and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't mean it like that."
She doubled over laughing, ignoring the mixer and ingredients she was pouring in. "Oh my god Bobby. Oh my god," she wheezed as she laughed even harder trying to stop.
She bumped her head off the counter as she was standing back up and held her hand on the back of her head. "Owwwwww," she moaned and then laughed some more.
Covered head to toe in flour and frozen in fear, Bobby didn't know how to react. Should he get her a bag of frozen blueberries for her head? He knew there was one in the freezer just there. "I'm really sorry," he mumbled sheepishly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she insisted, though she winced a bit as she stood up fully. "Just a little bit of an idiot." She laughed and plopped onto a nearby stool. "Cooking is dangerous, Bobby. You didn't properly warn me."
He squirmed, reddening more and more by the second. "Well I didn't think I was gonna talk about eating muffin mix off you." That was all kinds of dangerous. The talking about it, not so much the doing. Although, that could be dangerous. The thinking about it definitely was. He rubbed his face hard, trying to snap himself out of it.
"I'll do the flour again. And try not wear it this time." He looked down at himself. A cup of flour went a long way to cover someone.
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