text: ‘Can you not set the house on fire, Alfie?’ ‘It’s just smoke!’ I yelled back to Abby upstairs, over the deafening beeps of the fire alarm whilst trying to unscrew it from the ceiling. Balancing on a dining chair, I fought the device. ‘Let me try.’ Though Curtis was taller than me, I couldn’t trust him with another task after he set the timer for thirty hours instead of thirty minutes. ‘You’ve done enough trying today.’ I growled, pulling hard. The noise abruptly stopped, as if to give space to my startled gasp. I fell, but the floorboards never struck--I was caught in Curtis’ arms. Catching my breath after the scare and relief, my heart pounded in my chest with such intensity I was sure he could feel it. ‘You okay?’ he asked, his gaze as soft as his whisper. His gentleness surprised me, and I stared at him for a speechless moment, before clearing my throat. I freed myself and reclaimed the ground underfoot. Things weren’t going to plan. Tossing the fire alarm onto the sofa, I dusted his floury handprints off my clothes and inspected the kitchen. My heart sank as I took it all in, the smoking, black brownie, the flour all over the worktop and the countless bowls and utensils piling to be cleaned. I threw a tea towel at Curtis. ‘Remind me, why did I partner with you?’ Curtis shrugged, tossing the cloth from one hand to the other. ‘Come on Alfie, it was either me or nervous Norman.’ He flashed a wide grin, and I swatted at the prickling along the back of my neck. ‘I’d be willing to bet Norman can operate a timer.’ ‘Relax. We can try again tomo--’ ‘We’re running out of time. Why aren’t you taking this seriously, Curtis?’ ‘Why are you taking it so seriously? It’s just a baking contest. If you’re that obsessed with Olive Garden, we don’t need a stupid gift card to go there.’ ‘It’s not about the prize.’ ‘Then what?’ My throat constricted. Last year, Abby had baked the perfect brownie for the annual baking contest, the kind on those TV shows. It all came so naturally for her--school, sports, baking. Even relationships. Of course she’d won. And snatched up the ultimate reward. # ‘Wanna hang out after school?’ Curtis had asked. He dribbled the basketball, weaving it in between his legs. I checked my watch. Abby was planning to practise her baking, and whilst I didn’t care so much about the brownie or whether she had a chance of winning, I wouldn’t have passed on the opportunity to see her baking partner. ‘Think fast, Alfie!’ Before I could snap myself out of my daydream, the basketball crashed into my head. My breath forced its way out of my lungs as I lay sprawled on the ground. Amidst the floaty stars, Curtis came into view, his eyebrows drawn together with concern. I groaned as he helped me up. ‘Not today.’ No longer concerned if I was skipping eighth period, I mounted my bike and rode away. The tension in my neck slowly eased as I turned the corner of our street. When I pushed through the front door, Abby’s giggles greeted me from the kitchen. Her favourite apron hugged her waist over her simple cotton tee and blue jeans, and a dusting of chocolate and flour freckled her cheeks and Toby’s nose. ‘Give this a try, Alfie.’ I plopped onto the stool beside Toby. His scent, a sinful hot fudge, mixed with the chocolaty notes of the brownie; a decadent treat impossible to resist. He smiled with crinkled eyes. ‘Going to be a tough act to follow next year, but I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with, Alfie.’ # ‘I’m in charge of the timer today,’ I stated, tying Abby’s apron behind my back. Curtis nodded, resting his eyes on me. ‘We better get it right this time. I don’t want to be doing this every day until-’ The doorbell rang. ‘Could you grab the flour?’ I pointed to the top shelf, whilst heading to answer the door. ‘Hey Alfie.’ Toby’s bright smile turned my knees into jelly. ‘Nice apron. Is the baking competition coming up?’ ‘Y-yeah.’ I scratched the back of my neck as the heat rose in my cheeks. I stepped back to let him in. ‘Is Abby ready?’ Curtis cleared his throat. ‘Got the flour.’ ‘Thanks.’ I glanced at him, just long enough to notice his displeased look, before turning back to Toby. ‘Do you want a drink? She might take a while.’ ‘Alfie-’ ‘Sure, what have you got?’ I was halfway through listing the juice options when Curtis slammed a flour-stained glass of tap water onto the table in front of Toby. ‘Um... Thanks, Chris.’ ‘Curtis.’ ‘Sorry. Thanks, Curtis.’ Toby smiled. Curtis grunted, and grabbing my arm, dragged me back to the mixing bowl just as Abby jogged down the stairs. ‘Save us some of that award-winning brownie for later!’ she said before closing the door behind them. I stared daggers at Curtis. It better be good today. # ‘Come on, you are going to win with me.’ Curtis whisked the wet ingredients with the melted chocolate, while I set the oven to bake. ‘Let’s mix everything together.’ He pointed at the bowl beside me, a whirl of sugar, flour, and cocoa powder. ‘Bring that over here.’ Softened, I closed the gap between us, holding the bowl with both hands and trying not to laugh at the chocolate smudge on his cheek. I could never stay mad at him. Curtis raised an eyebrow, his glance a salty and sweet mixture. ‘You’ll have to sprinkle it over while I mix, Alf.’ ‘You know I hate when you call me that.’ ‘Why? I think it’s adorable.’ ‘We’re not five anymore, Curtis. We’ll be going to college next year.’ ‘Fine, Alfred. Can you tip that bowl so we can mix this already?’ I pressed my lips into a tight line, pouring the dry ingredients over the wet. An avalanche of powder plopped on top of the chocolate batter and a cloud of cocoa and flour erupted into the air. ‘Whoa! Slow down, cowboy.’ Moving behind my back, he pushed the wet mix right in front of me and his warm fingers grazed my hand as he held onto my bowl. I suppose it was better than having his elbow in my face. My scalp tingled as his body lightly pressed against mine, toned and supple, as he mixed the gooey confection. His scent, an earthly, intoxicating aroma of sweat and sandalwood, enveloped me. The air was heavy and charged; like before a storm. ‘There,’ he said and let go of the whisk. ‘Done.’ My glance fell onto his muscular arms, enveloping me on either side, his chest rising and falling against my back under his light t-shirt. I glanced up over my shoulder. Maybe it was the mesmerising way the light hit him, or how strands of hair fell into his face. Whatever it was, it... distracted me. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked, his lips tugging into a half smile as he regarded me. I shook my head. ‘Uh, I’m just... trying to remember how long to set the timer.’ ‘Never mind that.’ He looked down at me. I was still leaning into him; it was a perfect fit. Kind of like how it had always been for us growing up. Where I lacked in physical strength for sport, he made up for it with his natural athletic ability. And where he struggled in maths and science, he found a tutor in me. The weight of his stare was the last ingredient we missed to reach the bliss point. In the world of baking, this was when the right combination of ingredients made the culinary experience both pleasurable, and... Difficult to resist. As if reading my mind, he leaned in closer. My breath hitched in anticipation of what might happen next. The oven beeped, reaching its designated temperature. ‘Right.’ I gasped, ducking underneath his armpit. I reached for the baking dish, coated with a small layer of cooking spray and lined with parchment paper. With a quick motion, I grabbed the large bowl from in front of him, pouring the batter and smoothing it with a spatula. Curtis watched with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. ‘Uh, what was that?’ ‘What?’ His tone sharpened. ‘You just completely dodged a moment.’ ‘Don’t be silly.’ I shoved the baking tray into the oven, setting the timer. ‘Come on, Alf. You can’t be serious. What’s stopping us from--’ The front door creaked. ‘Something smells lovely.’ Abby and Toby entered the kitchen, his arm wrapped around her waist. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach, as if a knot formed to block the butterflies unfurling their wings to soar into flight. I rubbed the back of my neck. ‘You’ll have the first taste when it's done.’ Curtis shot a bewildered look in my direction. If Superman didn’t have the ability to fire invisible lasers from his eyes, then Curtis did. ‘Seriously?!’ He stormed out of the house, leaving the mess of dirty pots and pans to be cleaned. Heat flushed up my neck as Abby and Toby gave me incredulous stares. ‘Need any help?’ Toby asked. I shook my head. Their footfalls faded as they ascended the stairs, and I worked to tidy the kitchen. Opening the cabinet to return the sugar, my mouth fell open at what I found. Two eggs: a critical ingredient in a brownie. Why would they be here? In a brownie recipe, eggs acted as a binder, helping to keep the mixture together. Without them, everything would fall apart. And when the oven timer chimed, the brownie came out as expected. # I avoided Curtis the next day at school, and he too was still sulking, turning his back on me by the lockers. My stomach tied itself in knots, and by lunch he still hadn’t come over to talk to me. The events of the prior day rode a carousel in my head; replaying on repeat that one heated moment when he almost kissed me. What if I let him? The thought was both thrilling and tainted with guilt. I knew how it felt to get rejected in a vulnerable moment. But he sabotaged the baking. I wasn’t the one who needed to apologise. It was after the last lesson ended, when he stood in front of my desk as I was packing my books and cleared his throat. ‘Did Toby enjoy the brownie?’ he asked, his arms crossed. I glared at him. ‘Why do you ask?’ ‘Wouldn’t it be a shame if you couldn’t impress him?’ His voice, sharp with frustration, carried a tinge of hope. I gripped the edge of my desk and leaned closer to him, close enough to feel his breath on my face. ‘Then I would have to invite you over to make another one, right? Don’t worry. It came out perfect. We nailed it, even Abby agreed. Toby said it was the best brownie he had ever tasted.’ His jaw dropped open, eyes widened in disbelief. ‘But-’ ‘I set the timer right.’ As his eyes held mine, the corner of my mouth twitched. I was never a good liar. ‘Is that it? You don’t even want to see me after-’ ‘You hid the ingredients!’ I snapped, cutting him off. ‘Was that for a laugh? This contest is important to me, Curtis. I can’t believe I almost-’ I turned away, biting the sentence in half. For a moment, I really wanted to kiss him yesterday. Why did he have to betray me to further complicate things? ‘Almost..?’ ‘I wish I picked Norman.’ I pressed my lips together. His expression, one of curiosity and anticipation, faded. ‘You don’t mean that.’ I flung my bag over my shoulder and left without a word. # Before I could unpack my bag at home, Curtis stormed through the front door, meeting my eyes with an alert gaze. I hadn’t known it then, but it was just the right amount of concern and sweetness that I’d always return to. ‘Let’s try again, Alf! I promise to win the contest for you!’ I can’t believe I’m giving it another chance. Curtis got the bowls and ingredients out, by now moving confidently in our kitchen. But could he actually bake? ‘Trust me,’ he offered a forced smile as he lifted my apron over my head, and put his arms around me to tie it behind my back. It was strange, to have feelings half unsaid, half out in the open; both uncomfortable and safer than jumping headfirst into the unknown. ‘You didn’t make that easy...’ I mumbled, hoping he couldn’t hear my heartbeat or the wavering of my voice. If we talked this through, what would come next? What if it didn’t work out..? His stupid sabotage didn’t even bother me as much as it should have. Curtis gathered all the ingredients: sugar, flour, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, dark chocolate chips, sea salt, eggs, oil, water, and vanilla. Even more impressive, he measured everything with uncanny precision, not once checking the recipe. My mouth fell open as he worked. ‘Wait, how are you--’ ‘I told you we would win the contest.’ He winked, pointing at the measuring cup in front of me. ‘Pass me that, will you?’ A flush crept up my neck. His fingers brushed against my knuckles as he took the cup from me, sending shivers up my forearm. Had I been ignoring this all along? ‘Curtis, how are you terrible at maths?’ He scratched at his cheek, leaving a smudge of flour on it. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ ‘I mean,’ I said, pointing at the measuring cup, ‘baking is about precise measurements. Basically maths. How are you so good at this but not homework?’ He shrugged. ‘I could say the same about you. How are you so terrible at baking, but good at maths?’ He wrinkled his forehead at me, squinting his eyes, mocking. ‘Technically, if you hadn’t hidden the eggs from me, that last one would have been perfect.’ Curtis was never one who could win verbal arguments against me, so he would often resort to childish pranks to tip the scales in his favour. Before I could react, he swiped his finger into the bag of flour and wiped it on my nose. I jerked back with my mouth gaping wide open, a gasp escaping. ‘Oh no. Now you’ve done it.’ I dipped my entire hand in, and he darted across the kitchen island before I could come at him with it. I leapt forward, but he was too fast and moved out of the way, sidestepping around the table, towards the sink. I came at him again, this time successfully smearing flour across his face. Curtis grabbed my wrists. He’d always been stronger than me, so all I could do was laugh. ‘Is this funny to you?’ he asked, out of breath from goofing around. I grinned at him. ‘You look ridiculous.’ And somehow, for a brief moment, I’d forgotten all about the stupid contest. Or how I tried so hard to break free from Abby’s perpetual shadow of perfection, always failing. I couldn’t beat her grades, her athleticism, nor her baking. Hell, I couldn’t even compete with her for Toby. Curtis stared into my eyes, and the mood shifted. Like the other day, his gaze travelled down to my lips. I held my breath. ‘Alfie,’ he whispered. He drifted closer to me, and I closed my eyes in anticipation. Abby and Toby chose that exact moment to arrive home. Caught off guard, my eyes sprung open at the sound of the opening door, and I instinctively stepped away from Curtis. Waited until they disappeared upstairs. Curtis closed his eyes and shook his head, letting go of my hands. Before I could think of anything to say to clear the air, he stormed out of the kitchen. # Curtis sat on the back porch, a solemn gaze fixed on the firepit in the yard; staring into the depths of the flames as if they held the answers to his current predicament. I sat beside him, rubbing my sweaty hands against loose-fitting jeans covered in flour. ‘Can we go back in time and stop me from almost kissing you? ‘Cause if we could, that’d be awesome,’ he mumbled. ‘Was it that insignificant?’ Curtis’s dark eyes were angry and hurt all at once, and I wanted--needed to do something. He’d been on the offensive this entire time, now retreating to defence. I didn’t want to put our bond through this tug of war. I took a deep breath, preparing myself to take a plunge into something new. But the universe had a funny sense of humour, because as soon as I shifted, the timer rang. Curtis sighed. ‘Better check on those. You know, to make sure we got the recipe right.’ He stood, but before he could go, I grabbed his hand. ‘What are you doing, Alf? We gotta get the brownies.’ I blinked, forcing myself to hold Curtis’ gaze. ‘They can wait a moment.’ ‘Are you high on flour?’ He laughed, but after all that happened, it sounded like he was on the verge of tears. ‘I-’ My face burned, but I relaxed my hand around his, and gathering my courage, stroked his palm. It was my turn to take a step. ‘We already got interrupted twice.’ Curtis’s mouth quirked up at one corner. He pushed my hand to one side, leaned close and kissed me hard. Shock rolled me; the sensation sending shivers down my spine. I never knew how much I craved this. It’s beyond me, how we didn’t burn that brownie. In the end, all it took was the right timing.