Free Fated Dreams (Book One In The Affinity series) by Christina Smith

my face, then
hesitated and instead placed it on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. I felt an
electric pulse at his touch. “See you in class,” he whispered, his face so
close to mine, I could feel his breath. He stood up and walked out of the
cafeteria.
    I was frozen in
my seat. Because of his soft touch and the look in his eyes, I thought for a moment
I’d lost the ability to move or speak. No other guy had ever had the same
effect on me. Sure I’d had others flirt with me. I’d even been kissed by a few
on dates. But after that one touch and soft words from Lucas, I was gone. There
was no turning back.
     
     
     

Chapter
Seven
Distractions
     
    At home, hours later, I decided to make
dinner to take my mind off a certain twin. Since my mom had left out chicken, I
thought I’d make her favorite, fettuccine Alfredo. She liked to add chicken to
it, and it was the only way I knew how to make it.
    When I placed
the chicken in the hot pan, it sizzled and popped. While it cooked, I gathered
the rest of the ingredients and busied myself making the best meal I could.
    I was almost
finished when I heard a voice. “You're making dinner?” I turned to see my mom
standing in the kitchen doorway, face flushed, hair messy, as she stared at me
in disbelief.
    “Is it still
windy?” I asked, lifting the cooked chicken pieces out of the pan with a fork.
    She brushed her
long bangs out of her face with a smile. “Yes, it’s like a tornado out there.
Why are you cooking?” She stripped off her black suede coat and set it and her
briefcase on a chair.
    I smiled at her
reaction. It hadn’t been that long since I cooked, had it? “I felt like it. I
needed to take my mind off some things.”
    I moved over to
the pot of Alfredo sauce, gave it a quick stir, and then checked on the pasta
that was boiling on the back burner. Steam curled up into the air; I stirred it
to avoid the noodles sticking together. The last time I attempted to make
pasta, I forgot to stir the noodles, and when I finally remembered, they were
all in a big clump. We ordered pizza that night. Maybe that was the reason my
mother was so surprised.
    “Thank you;
I’ve had a long day, so you picked the perfect time to help out. If you don’t
mind, I have a few papers to see to. I’ll come back and help you when I’m
done.”
    “Mom, I can
handle it by myself.” I started cutting the chicken into chunks.
    She grinned,
kissed me on the forehead, and rushed upstairs. “Don’t forget to stir the
noodles.” I heard her yell. Funny, very funny.
    The smell of
garlic floated out of the oven, reminding me that the garlic bread I had put in
earlier was almost finished. I opened the door and peered inside. The bread was
golden brown. Perfect. I took the pan out before it burned, and placed the
bread on a plate.
    I had just
finished the rest of the dinner and was setting the table when I heard the
front door open and close.
    “Mmm, dinner
smells great. Did you make it yourself?” my dad asked from the doorway, looking
as surprised as my mom had been. Maybe I should start to help out more often,
if I shocked them this much.
    He walked over
and dipped his finger in the sauce that was simmering on top of the stove. “Oh,
that’s good.”
    “Dad, that’s
gross, there’s a spoon right there.” I pointed to the counter beside the stove.
“Will you call Alex and Mom, they're both upstairs.”
    “Sure, I’ll be
right back. I can’t wait to eat, that sauce tasted delicious.” He hurried up
the stairs.
    I had to admit
it did smell good. While I mixed the sauce, chicken, and noodles into one large
bowl, I heard my family settling down at the table.
    “That looks
good, honey,” my mother said when I placed the bowl in the center of the table.
I watched them scoop out their dinner before I took my turn.
    We were quiet
while we ate; the only sounds were the scrapes of silverware and my dad’s yummy
noises. “Wow, Sarah, this is really good,” he said, breaking the