SKYLAR'S POV

I don't know what just happened but I do know I feel pretty angry.

I twist and turn in my bed, each position I take more comfortable then the past.

A slight pain in my feet made me realize I still have the killer heels on.

Huh.... So annoying.

I peel them off one after the other, then throw them at the wall.

About to lay back on the bed a realisation hit me.

I walk up the stairs on heels, I literally forgot I had it on, but then I didn't fall.

Maybe it isn't so bad after all. Was I too harsh on Grayson earlier, is he maybe mad at me.

Grabbing the killer heels I head for the stairs, by the letter on the kitchen counter I could tell that Grayson had left for his afternoon classes.

He always leaves a note when going out.

I pry open the piece of paper, then read through.

When you are dome been mad, there's a cooking book on the counter, read through and maybe try to prepare some easy ones.

PS:I don't mean burn the house down.

With a deep scowl on my face, I place the note back on the table then pick up the little note.

It says. 'How to cook.' With an headline "perfect for people with zero knowledge on how to cook.'

They could have just written. 'Perfect for people like Skylar a. k. a the worst cook ever.'

I flip through the pages looking for a simple one that won't take much time and ingredient to prepare.

ONION SAUCE.

Reading through the preparing method, it seems like the most easiest one so far.

Then that's what I will cook, maybe I can prepare it for dinner.

But first I have to get over with the heel training.

Putting on the killer heel once again, I set for the corridor. Its now or never.

i focus my gaze on anything, but the line, taking each step like my life depends on it.

Well it does.... One wrong move and I will be doomed.

I try again and again, until I could get to the end of the line without losing balance. And to be truthful it took more than an hour to perfect.

Collapsing on the floor after my eleventh successful try, I take a look at my wrist watch.

Its already after six.

I should probably start preparing dinner.

There is already a bowl of cooked pasta in the fridge, it would be a very good match with the onion sauce.

Still on the heels i make my way to the kitchen.

Reading through the the cooking procedure once more, I replay the process in my head as I pick out the ingredients needed.

First slice lots and lots of onions. So I need onions.

Then onion, some seasonings, a little fresh pepper and them a pan. All good.

Peeling off the back of the onion, with a knife I slice it into long bits, causing more damage to my hand than the onion itself.

It doesn't helps that I can't stop crying, I don't know why the onion is making my eyes watery.

I decided not to slice the pepper, since my hands are already covered with injuries.

Am just going to use it like that, it makes no different, right.

Turning on the gas, I put the dry pan on it, then add a little bit of oil then wait for it to get hot.

Adding all the sliced onions and unsliced pepper, I step back when a big fire evolves from the pan.

Shit, shit, shit, what do I do, what do I do.

Grabbing a glass of water I empty it on the pan, but the fire grows bigger.

My palm begins to sweat at the possibility of the gas blowing up. The kitchen is now beginning to get smoky.

Rushing to the sink I turn on the tap then fill a bowl with water, pouring it all on the gas, and the fire goes off.

Its gone.

I fall to the ground, resting my head on my knees.

What did I do wrong this time. I did follow all the instructions. Maybe its because I didn't slice pepper. That must be it.

That stupid pepper.

"What the fuck happened here." A loud cough follows.

Grayson walks into the kitchen, his hand fanning away the thick black smoke from his face.

"Let me guess, you tried to cook dinner." He raise am eyebrow at me.

"I didn't know it would end up this bad, the Pan caught fire." I point at the black looking pan.

"Well at least you didn't burn down the house." He smile, handing out his hand to me.

I wince as he pulls me up, my hand stings like its been severally bitten by scorpions.

"You cut your hand." Grayson scans my hand for any sign of injuries.

"yup, pretty many." I reply. "They are freaking small but hurts a lot."

"Let's bandage them up."

It took only a minute to apply the bandage and is stare at Grayson all though.

He looks kind of cute as he focus on my hand.

"Since you burnt our supposed to be dinner, let's eat out for tonight." Grayson states.

(Late update, am sorry. And thanks for trying out my book. Thanks. Love yal. ADIOS.)