“You’re really not going to tell us the secret ingredient?” Alex asks, stealing another piece of pepper from the cutting board.
“Family secret,” Troy says, swatting her hand away. “Passed down through generations of Hawkins’ men.”
“It’s smoked paprika,” I stage-whisper to Alex, “and he learned it from YouTube.”
“Betrayed by my own sister!” Troy clutches his chest dramatically. “After I’ve spent hours slaving over this meal?—”
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Freddie calls from where he’s setting the table.
“The secret,” Troy continues, ignoring him, “is love. Cooking is my love language.”
Alex raises an eyebrow. “Is that why Jessica from your Sports Psychology class keeps asking about you?”
“I’ve never cooked for Jessica.” Troy adds more peppers to the sizzling pan. “Or any girl, actually.”
“Really?” I sit up, interested. “Not even Jane from the hockey team?”
“Nope.” He stirs with practiced precision. “The way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. Can’t risk having them fall in love with me just because of my culinary skills.”
“So modest.” Alfie deadpans, appearing in the doorway. He drops a kiss on my head as he passes, and my heart does that little flip it still does every time he’s near.
“You mock”—Troy points his spatula at Alfie—“but I’m serious. Food is intimate. Personal. You don’t cook for someone unless you’re ready for them to see the real you.”
“Is that why you only cook for us?” Alex asks softly.
Troy’s expression shifts to something more genuine. “Yeah. You guys are family. You get the real stuff.”
“The real stuff being YouTube recipes?” I tease, but I’m touched.
“Hey, that paprika tip changed my life!”
The kitchen fills with laughter and the smell of spices. Ethan arrives with too much beer, launching into a story about his summer internship that has us all crying with laughter. Freddie FaceTimes with his California firm about his post-grad job while Alex pretends she’s not already looking at apartments out there.
It hits me suddenly - this is their last year. Next fall, Troy, Alfie, Freddie and Ethan will be gone. Everything will be different.
“Hey.” Alfie catches my expression, pulling me closer on the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I curl into his side. “Just thinking about how much I’m going to miss this next year.”
“Miss what?” Troy asks, plating the fajitas. “My incredible cooking?”
“All of it.” I gesture around the kitchen. “This. Us.”
“Please.” Ethan scoffs. “Like any of us are actually leaving each other. Freddie’s already planning monthly game nights in California.”
“And I hear they have phones in CalTech,” Alfie murmurs in my ear. “Amazing technology.”
“Plus,” Troy adds, “someone has to make sure you’re eating real food and not just ramen.”
“I can cook!” I protest.
Everyone - even Alex - bursts out laughing.
Troy sets down plates piled high with fajitas. “Now eat before it gets cold. I didn’t spend hours?—”
“Twenty minutes!” everyone choruses.
The kitchen erupts in laughter again. I look around at these people - my best friend, my brother, my boyfriend, our weird little family - and think about how much I love each and every one of them.
