Page 20 of Don’t Be A Stranger

My head snaps toward him to see he’s already looking at me. We laugh.

Bianca also chuckles and I look back at her, lowering my voice. “Don’t tell Maisie or Orion but we’re not actually a couple. He’s just my best friend who booked a couples cooking class because apparently he doesn’t know how to read the fine print.”

Bianca laughs but her attention is on making her own butter sauce. “The fine print? I’m the one that booked it for me and my boyfriend and the website made it very clear that this was for couples.”

Huh. Interesting.

I look over my shoulder at River, who is either focused on not burning the butter this time or pretending not to listen to our conversation.

Before I can bring myself to question him, I turn back to Bianca, leaning my hip against the steel countertop. “So, how long have you and your boyfriend been together?” I gesture toward where Bianca’s boyfriend—Max, I believe his name is—is having a serious discussion with Maisie about…oil, I think?

Bianca watches the encounter and rolls her eyes affectionally. “Two years,” she says. “I thought this would be romantic but I sometimes forget how passionate he is about everything.”

Her pot is forgotten about for a moment as she watches Max with admiration. Like the way he moves his hands to get his point across is amusing to her. Bianca’s entire face softens as she watches Max for a moment longer.

I take a quick glance over at River. He doesn’t say anything as he focuses on dumping the chicken into the pot. As if he can feel my attention on him, River looks up and our eyes lock. He gently smiles.

My entire body seems to ignite. It always does whenever River is around but when he smiles at me? That’s a whole other unworldly marvel.

River playfully gestures toward Bianca, who is trying not to pay attention to my blatant staring but fails.

I clear my throat. “How’d you and Max meet?”

Bianca lights up. “He actually would come into a pet store I used to work at. His way of breaking the ice was asking me about dog shampoo.”

Not the meet cute I was expecting but I remain quiet to let her continue.

“After he came in asking about different things like crickets or hay, I asked him how many animals he had. He eventually came clean and told me he didn’t have a single one. He only ended up there in the first place because his friend’s dog needed tick medicine. Like I said.” Bianca smiles. “He’s passionate.”

And just like that, they’re here in this class. There are all these moments in between them meeting and now. Moments that I don’t know Bianca well enough to ask but can only imagine led them here.

“So…” Bianca lowers her voice. “I know you said you guys aren’t dating—” She steals a glance at River. “But you guys seem pretty close, when did you two meet?”

“Oh.” I smile, not expecting to be excited to share that information. Is that how she felt when I asked? Although I don’t have as much of a story as her. I don’t even remember most of it.

“We met in the fifth grade. River had just moved from Korea and I guess I kind of just made it my mission to deter any assholes from picking on him. After I called him out for having a staring problem.” I can’t help but laugh at the memory.

“Alright, our lovely couples!” Maisie calls out to us. “Let’s move onto the next step.”

I step away from Bianca as Max walks back to her side, and River and I begin to pay close attention. Well, we try to but River sucks at stirring without making a mess. So much so that I shove him aside and do it myself. By the time we finish cooking our meal, we’ve burned ourselves a total of seven times between the both of us. Our rice is undercooked, the sauce is burned, and the naan that I put my heart into is flatter than a pancake.

“I gotta say.” River struggles to swallow his food. “This is amazing.”

After that, Maisie and Orion guided us all to the dining area of the closed restaurant the class is taking place in. It’s dark out and the tables are dimly lit by candles. Couples are sitting in the spot of their choice in the dining area. Bianca and Max are feeding each other at a table close by.

“Oh, yeah,” I jokingly agree. “Far better than what I had on my trip to India.”

“See? We make the perfect couple.”

The fear that whatever lightheartedness is between us cracks and splinters under the weight of his words.

River clears his throat and takes another bite. “Sorry, it’s not the best. But I’ll get better and I’ll make you the best Indian cuisine you’ve ever had.”

My body settles comfortably in my seat, the quiet tension dissipating.

“You know, you could probably save yourself all that hassle and just take me to India,” I joke. Kind of.

I’ve visited India once. When I was thirteen, I begged Dad and Papi to take me so that I could see where I was born.