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Description : Sizzle

The lumps of the new sofa dug painfully into my back as I wriggled to a new position; equally as ufortable as the first. I would never understand how Callie had convinced me to purchase it. I hated it – from the color, a sickly brown; sienna according to the designer, to the numerous lumps and bumps that you couldn’t escape, regardless of how you were sitting on it. It reminded me of the old, beat up sofa in my mom’s sunroom. The very one my uncle had hauled out and deposited in the tree house we’d built behind the tall cottonwoods.

I smiled at the memory. My first make out session had happened in that tree house, on that sofa. Ethan. Ethan Rock; the school jock and biggest asshole. He’d sweet talked his way into the tree house with every intention of getting to third base. I’d ended up kneeing him in his junk when my father shouted at me from the base of the tree; he’d frightened the shit out of us. Ethan, of course hadn’t spoken to me again, but what a memory.

“Thalia, what the hell are you grinning at?”

“Ethan Rock,” I replied to my roommate Callie, her voice shaking me from the memory.

“Huh, I don’t think I know him. You going to eat this Spaghetti Bolognese?”

I turned my head to look at her and burst out laughing. “Is there any left in the pan?” Her apron seemed to have a hell of a lot of red sauce all over it.

Callie was the world’s worst chef, and always insisted the next meal she cooked would be better than the previous one. That was so not going to happen.

“Ha, funny.”

“When’s it ready?”

“Ten minutes,” she said, before turning back into the small, cramped kitchen.

“Okay.” I hoped I wouldn’t...