"No, Mom."

   "Yes, Reina."

   "No!"

   "Yes!"

   I shook my head, craning my neck to look up at the short statured lady hovering above me. "It's the weekend. I don't need to socialize."

   Pursing her lips, Mom had that look on her face that told me I didn't have a say. "You are baking cookies and delivering them to our new neighbours, no argument."

   "They live like, down the street!" I whined.

   "So? Get your lazy butt up!"

   Puffing up my cheeks, I did as told before I could get a beating. "But, Mom—"

   "If you stay home you are cleaning this house until it shines," she warned, glaring.

   "But—"

   "Cleaning!"

   "Fine," I murmured in defeat, knowing full well that if I even tried to disagree, she would've taken away my phone too. It was finally winter break; obviously I could have more freedom, right?

   Wrong. At school I was constantly scrambling for my life while at home I was constantly cleaning and doing work. It was never-ending. Everyone in this world were such slave drivers I swear. Couldn't I have just one day to do absolutely nothing, without the fear of dying by the hands of agitated delinquents or my mother?

   "I'm heading there ahead of time," Mom said, letting out a breath. "I already promised to be there at three to set up for the party so come by four with chocolate chip cookies, understood?"

   I frowned. "Yeah, sure."

   She gave me a look. "Reina."

   "What?" I asked, not meeting her eyes.

   "Look at me."

   "Why—"

   "I said look at me."

   Sighing, I did as told and met her eyes. Identical features stared back at me, including her puffy light brown hair that lay by her shoulders. Weary wrinkles were spotted on her face but I barely paid them any attention because when Mom scowled, I knew what was coming.

   "They better not be burnt this time," she ordered, "We only have enough brown sugar for two batches."

   "I know, I know," I muttered bitterly. "Jeez, if you care so much, make it yourself."

   "Oh, sweetie," my mom smiled, her entire persona doing a 180° flip, "But you know I can't bake."

   I shook my head, knowing not to argue. The lady herself knew it. She cooked really well, yes. But baking just wasn't her forte so I was always the one doing it. It wasn't like I minded baking, but no matter what I made, Mom always commented and reviewed them like how the chefs would on T.V. Frankly put, it was annoying. And yet she always had that condescending tone like she could look down on me when she couldn't even bake anything half as decent as mine.

   "Dress up in something fancy, okay?" Mom continued on regardless of my obvious discomfort.

   "Okay."

   "Straighten your hair too."

   "Okay."

   "And don't forget perfume—"

   I finally snapped. "Do I look like a kid, Mom? Go bother Dad with that stuff!"

   She chuckled, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. "Sorry, dear. I just want to make a good first appearance. Our last neighbours thought I was crazy."

   "That's because you are," I said as she pulled away.

   Flicking my forehead, Mom tsked. "Where did you get that attitude from? Making fun of your own mother? I bet from your father."

   "Dad said I get my motormouth from you."

   She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

   As the words left her mouth, I could easily notice the small traces of anger. Dad was going to get yelled at later on because of me. But, that was what he said once, so I wasn't lying.

   "Well, I'll be going," Mom told me, spinning around. "I'll see you there at four."

   "All right."

   The door slammed closed after she left my room and I exhaled with relief. Groaning, I hopped off of my bed, ambling towards my closet for a change of clothes then towards the washroom to brush. After pulling a comb through my hair for nearly a half hour, attempting to undo all of the knots within my curls, I eventually gave up and went on to attempting to straighten it. Keyword: attempt. Straighteners and my hair never mended well. Which was why it wasn't a surprise when I gave up on it altogether after a while too. By the time the clock struck three, I tugged on a plaid shirt and a skirt and headed out of my room.

   Dragging my feet down the steps, I arrived at the kitchen only to find all of the ingredients already laid out on the counter top. Smiling, I threw an apron over my head and got everything together into two bowls, mixing them then mixing them in together. In record time, the first batch had come out of the oven and I was already working on the second.

   Rubbing my nose, I accidentally sneezed when flour shot up my nostrils. Then I sneezed again. Then again. Quickly, I tried to hold back my series of sneezes and when it finally died down, I exhaled in relief. Darn this flour. Ugh, I need to air out this room or something.

   Walking up to the window sitting beside the windowsill where I had put the cookies to cool, I pushed the windows ajar and a cold breeze drifted on in. Exhaling, I then spun around and headed towards the washroom to clean myself up.

   When I finished and exited the washroom to head back to the kitchen, I barely paid any attention to the orange-haired male chowing down on the plate of cookies that I had left to cool.

   "Hey, Kikuchi."

   I crouched down to grab an oven mitt fom its rightful place. "Hey."

   "Your cookies are good. Make me another batch."

   Pulling down the door to the oven, I carefully reached in and slid out the tray of cookies. "Don't be such a slave driver. I only have enough sugar to make these two batches. I've got to get to this house across the street by four."

   Placing the tray on the cooling rack near the window, I yawned as I cleaned up after myself and shut off the oven.

   "Let's go buy sugar, then. I didn't want to throw that stupid party anyway."

   Just as I tossed my oven mitt back into the drawer, my heart froze. Wait... Who was I talking to...?

   Hearing the crunching and chewing that followed, my breathing hiked. There was somebody in the kitchen. A male. And it was not my dad.

   Finding it hard to swallow, and trembling, I swiftly whipped out a kitchen knife and faced the one seated at my table.

   "Wh-who are you?!"

   Familiar tangy orange hair tilted in my direction and my eyes widened as I watched as the grey-eyed male continued to eat my cookies.

   "For the last time, Ryu Iwasaki," he muttered, swallowing whatever he had in his mouth. "And you say you don't have short-term memory."

   My jaw had fallen and I could only stare at him in immense paranoia. I waved the knife I held in my right hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"

   The teen didn't so much as flinch. "That's dangerous. You could kill somebody—"

   "What are you doing in my kitchen?!" I demanded, gripping the utensil even tighter. "How did you get in here?"

   Rising up to his feet, Ryu Iwasaki simply headed towards me. My head swirling, I tried to warn him to stay away while beckoning with my knife but he kept approaching. Body frozen, I stared up at him, our proximity now a small amount. Taking the knife out of my hand, Ryu chomped on a cookie with his free hand.

   "Calm down," he said, resting it down on the counter. "I only came here to get you."

   Breathing out, I carefully studied him. "Get me...?"

    "It's already four something so your mom was getting worried," he explained simply. "Then my mom told me to get you, so I did."

   My eyes widened. It was four o'clock? No way! Then another realization settled in. "You were at the party?"

   I made eye-contact with the male just as he began chowing down on another cookie on the cooling rack. "Well, why wouldn't I? It is my party."

   "Your party?"

   "My mom wanted to throw it. She's into that kind of stuff."

   "B-but it's... Then that means you're my new neighbor!"

   "I know. Small world, right?"

   Small world he says... That house was Ryu's? I couldn't stop myself from gawking. Realistically thinking, considering we took the same bus to school, it's no surprise we lived close by. I even walked him through this neighbourhood at one point, too. But, this close? He was right across the street! Wait... then, if I went to that party, I would've run into him there...?

   While I was too busy processing the idea, I watched as Ryu continued to snack on the batch of nearly finished cookies. All at once, my blood ran cold. My head jerked towards the table where the first plate of cookies were wiped clean.

   "You ate the cookies!" I screamed, racing up to the empty plate, blinking rapidly as if doing so would make them reappear.

   "Oh," Ryu murmured, his tone not apologetic in the least. "Are you making more?"

   Instantly, I stared at him in disbelief as he reached over for another. In record time, I shoved him out of the way, snatching the cookies from the cooling rack. "Stop eating them!"

   Ryu stumbled backwards, furrowing his eyebrows. "Whoa."

   Staring down at the measly two cookies left, tears filled the corners of my eyes. "No way... There was only enough sugar for these two batches... And I don't have any time left..."

   He ate ten cookies! Was I dreaming? Please tell me I was dreaming! How the hell could somebody eat that many cookies in one sitting? And how the hell was I supposed to head to that party without those cookies? Mom was going to kill me!

   "Are you crying?" Ryu asked after a long pause.

   "Where the hell did you come from anyway?" I snapped, too blinded by my rage to really mind the tears falling down my face. "Leave!"

   Ryu held up his hand in defence, face contorted with surprise. "H-hey—"

   Putting down the cookies, I started shoving him with my hand. At first, he didn't relent and easily stayed firmly in place like a statue. Then, I turned and began jabbing my shoulder into his back to make him move, and wincing from the pain that shot up my lateral arm.

   "Leave!"

   "Ah," he intook a sharp breath as he finally budged and began moving towards my living room. "Kikuchi?"

   "Leave!" I ordered, swinging open the front door, "I do not want you in my house!"

   With one last shove, Ryu staggered over the porch steps and I slammed the door shut behind him. Huffing, I stomped back into the kitchen. I slowed down by the time I entered, frowning sadly as I eyed the empty plates. Flopping down into a seat, I rubbed my eyes. Ugh, why was I crying? I hated how easily I did. Whenever I got frustrated or annoyed at something especially.

   Damn that Ryu. How dare he come into my house like that and eat all the cookies! I should call the police for trespassing... Then again, I didn't want to get involved with them concerning yet another case about him...

   My lips downturned. I reached out and took a bite out of one of the remaining cookies. What was the point of even going now. I'd rather stay home then go only to incur Mom's wrath for not bringing the cookies.

   "If you're eating your cookies too, why'd you have to go and spazz at me?"

   At the voice, my head jerked in the direction of my open window only to spot Ryu leaning over the ledge, his chin rested on his palm.

   I leapt to my feet. "Why are you—"

   Propping his palms on the windowsill, Ryu hoisted himself upwards until he had a knee over and on the ledge. His action was as confusing as they always were, and he wore a frown on his face.

   "If you're not going to that party, let's skip out together," he said, catching me off guard.

   "Huh?" I gaped.

   "We could go shopping for sugar or whatever you said you need," he went on. "I'd do anything to get out of it, even spend time with a crybaby like you. Besides, that party will be filled with old people anyway."

   "That—"

   "Yes or no?" Ryu demanded. "Actually, never mind. I'm not taking no as an answer. Hurry up and get ready then meet me outside."

   "But—"

   Without even waiting for me, the orange-haired male jumped off the windowsill and onto the grass. I watched him, incredulous.

   "Bring your bus pass too!" he called quickly as an afterthought before disappearing from my ray of sight.

   Speechless, I stood where I was, not knowing how to react.

   What just happened? I was going where with Ryu?

   I shook my head vigorously. Oh, no. Not today. Nu-uh.

   Hastening up to the window, I pulled it inwards and locked it before draping it over with a curtain. I did the same with the front and back doors before fleeing to my bedroom, the plate of cookies in hand. I locked the door behind me and collapsed onto my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest.

   He wouldn't be able to get to me now. No matter how much I knew I was going to regret this decision later, there was absolutely no way I was going anywhere with that troublesome guy.

   He could have fun with whatever he was going to do, himself.