"You can never know what you are fully made of until you start to do the things that fear you the most." -Edmond Mbiaka

CHAPTER TWO

I hate insects.

I never get Rem whenever he talks to me about the beauty of the different types of butterflies, spiders, and worms. Yes, worms.

I am not a heavy sleeper, and I hate insects.

So no one can blame me when I screamed on the top of my lungs when I felt something moving on my left leg and when I opened my eyes, I was greeted with the sight of a croaking frog, "PUT THAT THING AWAAAAAAY FROM MEEEEEEEE!"

The adrenaline pumping in my veins pushed any trace of drowsiness off me, and I immediately stood up from the comfortable -and jumpy- bed and took in one of those karate stances I've seen in the movies with both of my hands shaking in fear.

A nanosecond later, Rem and Mrs. Northcott's laughter greeted me from my door.

"You should've seen your face!" My brother laughs as he scoops the frog on his hands, "If you want to see it, you can see it in my Instagram account."

I do not know about the ones in cartoons, but the frog he is holding is far from slimy. It seems dry. And hideous.

"Rem!" I gasp out as I felt the adrenaline is drained off of my body, "You know how I hate insects."

"Frogs aren't insects, Larry." Mrs. Northcott chuckles as she takes the frog from my brother's hands, "They're amphibians."

"They're green," I muttered silently once my knees gave up on me and hit the bed.

My brother walks closer to me and was about to pat my back when I jumped away from the bed and fell on the floor near my bathroom, "Don't touch me when you just touched that thing!"

Both of them, once again, broke into a fit of laughter. I grumpily stood up but couldn't keep in the smile I was holding in when I see that this prank brought sheer entertainment for the both of them.

"Breakfast is ready, Larry." Mrs. Northcott announced and pats the frog's head in one hand, "Come, Rem. Let us give her space to let her catch her breath."

My brother giggled as he walks beside her as they leave my room, "She acts like she's already your age, Mrs. Northcott."

Did he just call me old?! I was about to say something, but my door was already closed. Chuckling to myself, I put the tangled mess I call my hair in a bun. I stand up and walk to one of my suitcases to change into something decent for breakfast downstairs.

Not even a few minutes later, I was already entering Edith's dining room, "Morning."

"Where's the good in that morning, Larry?" Edith gave me a teasing smile as she offers me the empty seat beside Rem, the same spot I sat last night.

I looked at her glumly, "You've heard, huh?"

"I heard everything." She laughs, "I bet everyone in the neighborhood heard you. Come, join us."

Smiling, I shook my head in embarrassment and sat down beside my brother. My mouth watered at the sight of bacon, eggs, sausages, and pancakes that smells delightful. I looked at everyone in the table with a smile because everyone is here, even Mr. and Mrs. Northcott are happily eating at the other side of the table.

I stopped abruptly when I realized that everyone was here except for one person: My mom.

I looked at my aunt and asked, "Is mom still sleeping?"

Mrs. Northcott cleared her throat, while Edith gave me a sympathetic smile, "She already left." Oh.

I wanted to look at the time, but I left my phone upstairs. Oof, it is probably dead because I did not get the chance to charge it last night.

"What time is it?" Rem asked them as I take a spoonful of eggs on my plate.

Edith replied, "Eight-thirty."

I froze. My mom is no morning person; she hates waking up early. But jokes on us because she will do everything to get away from her children. After all, she did spend more than nine hours to leave us.

I looked at Rem and knew that he also knows my mom's habit of being a night owl. I took his hand when I saw him looking at his food with disdain and asked, "Hey buddy, you okay?" I know it is a stupid question, but I did not know what to say.

"She didn't say goodbye." He mutters while eating his food. I have never seen a kid looking so sad while eating wrapped in mozzarella.

Smiling reassuringly, I gave his hand a squeeze to comfort him, "It's okay buddy, you still have me." I scooted closer to him, which was difficult because the wooden chair was heavy, "Always, okay?"

He looked up at me with those vulnerable green eyes that glitter because of the tears that are threatening to fall down his cheeks. He puts his fork down and raised his pinky finger towards me, "Always?"

"Always." I promised while locking my pinky to his tiny one to seal the deal. His appetite immediately went back as he takes away his hand and continued eating.

I looked up and saw everyone in the table giving us an... adoring look... I cleared my throat, which made them snap back to reality and continued eating too.

I took a sip of orange juice and looked at my aunt, "I don't want to sound rude, but why was last night out first meeting with you?"

"Oh, your mom was just busy." We both know that is not the truth.

Instead of prodding for more information, I simply smiled and said, "Thank you so much for having us, Edith."

She brushes me off with a small wave, "Don't. You're family, okay?"

Rem surprised all of us when asked, "Why?"

Edith wipes her mouth with a table napkin, "Why..."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my left ear and rephrased my brother's question, "I mean if you don't mind us asking. Why do you want to take care of us?"

The married couple stood up and gave a slight nod, indicating that they are done eating. The both of them then leave the room to give us some privacy.

She gave me a gentle smile, "As you can see, I have no family. And it would be lovely to have you guys around."

Rem continued to look down, "But we don't want to be a burden. Mommy and daddy left us, why do you want us?"

I held my brothers' hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Edith stood up and walked across the room to reach us across from where she was sitting earlier, "Oh darling, no, don't say that."

She sits down on the chair beside Rem's and took both of my brother's arms to face her, "Listen, okay? Your mommy and daddy have issues, and you and your big sister has nothing to do with it, okay?"

She hugs him on her chest tightly and soothes him by rubbing his back as tears fall down his cheeks, "You're no burden." She looks at me sympathetically and said, "This is why I convinced your mother for you guys to live with me. When I saw her on Thanksgiving, I knew that she was a mess. I cannot imagine what was happening with you and Rem."

I knew that if I was going to say something, I will start sobbing. And the thing is, I am a crybaby. Pink's "What about us" and 5SOS's "Ghost of You" got me sobbing every time I listen to it. I do not have my emotions ties neatly with a bow. I cannot talk about feelings without crying. Right now, my eight-year-old brother does not need another person to cry with him, he needs his sister to be strong for him.

And so, I stayed silent.

A few moments later, my brother started sniffing and pulled away from my aunt. He rubs his eyes and said, "Thank you for taking us in, Aunt Edith."

I nodded to show that I agree with my brother and took him under my arms, "We owe you one."

"Oh shush, stop that." She said as she pats Rem's head gently, "One day, you will learn that the most important things in life are not money and material. It's family and love."

I could not hold in my snort. Tell that to my parents.

Edith gave me an amused look, "Family doesn't mean the people who gave birth to you. Family is deeper than blood. You get to choose your family, Larry. And don't judge too quickly about love, it seems as if you haven't experienced it yet."

I gave her a teasing look to lighten up the mood, "And you do?"

I was stunned when a deep blush crawled from my aunt's neck to her cheeks, and she started clearing her throat, "That's a story for another day."

I gasped out loud in astonishment and point an accusing finger to her, "YOU DO!"

Rem giggled and poked Edith's tummy, "Aunty Edith has a boyfie."

I chuckled and stared at her with bewilderment when she stood up and said, "It was a long time ago and right now is not the time for that."

"Aww, but I want to hear a love story-"

Edith cuts Rem off when she squished Rem's adorable cheeks and said, "But do you know what time it is? It is time for you guys to see the bakeshop. Do you like cupcakes, Rem?"

As expected, the thoughts of a juicy story were thrown out of the villa and the idea of delicious cupcakes took over my brother's senses, "I love cupcakes!"

"Well, take a bath so we can go. We'll be leaving in thirty minutes tops." Edith hasn't finished talking when Rem ran out of the dining room screaming, "I'M LEAVING YOU, LAAAARRRRRRYYYYYY!"

Of course, trust Rem to choose cupcakes over me.

Edith and I laughed. A second later, I looked at her and genuinely thanked her, "Thank you so much for choosing us to be your family, Edith."

"I told you, you don't have to thank me." Then, she looked at her wristwatch and said, "I will leave you." And on that note, I immediately run upstairs.

Twenty minutes later, I have freshened up after taking a bath. I was not sure if winter here in Denovan when the sun is out is as cruel as last night, but it is still California after all. I settled on a simple tee, jeans, and a thick jacket just in case.

I was about to put on makeup when my door was slammed open and a jolly-looking Rem stood before me, "Let's go, Larry!" He was wearing a plaid polo shirt and pants, the usual clothes he wears.

Mrs. Northcott rushes inside too while bringing one of Rem's winter jacket, "It's usually freezing when it's night time, but it's better to be safe."

I grinned while raising my jacket to acknowledge her and said, "Thank you for taking care of my brother, Mrs. Northcott."

"I love taking care of children," She replies with a reassuring smile.

Rem started hopping, "Come on!"

I would hate to remove that grin off his face by telling him that I need more time to put on makeup, and so I decided to screw makeup and instead grab his hand, "Let's go go go!"

Once we got downstairs, Mrs. Northcott leads us outside. I really should not be surprised to see the black Mercedes-Benz sedan waiting for us, I mean, Edith owns a villa. But damn!

"It's nice to see someone your age without covering every inch of your face, Larry." Edith smiles as Rem enter the car through the back seat and I took the passenger's seat right beside her. She fixes the rear-view mirror and smiles, "Make yourself comfortable."

"How far is the drive from the house to the bakeshop, Aunt Edith?" Rem asks her. She starts the car once everyone's buckled in, "Is it a pretty bakeshop?"

Edith laughs as she starts to drive, "It is right below this mountain, Rem. It wouldn't take ten minutes. And I think it's pretty... pretty."

"Cool."

"Not to sound rude," I looked at Edith and asked, "But, what do you do for a living?" She owns a luxury car. I bet it is not the only one too.

"I own a bakeshop."

A bakeshop? Does she bake cookies? Like the ones with marijuana? I mean, it cannot be an ordinary bakeshop. She owns a villa.

Rem asks innocently, "What is your bakeshop's name, Aunt Edith?"

Edith replied nonchalantly, "Ed's Bakeshop."

I started choking on my own spit, "You own what?!"

She owns what?!

Oh my God, duh! Edith is Ed.

She laughs as she steals a glance at me, "I assume that you are familiar with it?"

When my mom told us, that Edith owns a bakeshop, she literally said that it wasn't a big deal. And just like always, she lied. In what world did owning one of the most famous bakeshops throughout the world and has a franchise in all fifty states of our country did not matter? My mom's world.

"And you assumed correctly." I regained my composure, "I love your apple pies."

She chuckles, "Thank you."

"Mom doesn't bake though," I voiced out my thoughts, "She doesn't even cook. How the-" I paused to looked for a child-friendly word, "Coconut tarts did you own a world-class bakery?" It's a good thing I replaced the word 'hell' with 'coconut tarts' because eating those would feel like you're in hell.

She shrugs, "We have different hobbies." Yeah, because that makes absolute sense.

I couldn't stop myself asking, "Have you met Gordon Ramsay? I know that he's a chef, but you're both famous and in the food industry."

"Yes, we're friends." She confirms with a laugh.

Rem gave her a bright toothy smile, "Aunt Edith, I really like the cupcakes in Ed's Bakeshop."

Edith laughs, "Then you're going to love it more because I will be baking it later."

"YAY!" I and my eight-year-old brother chimed at the same time.

Not a few minutes later, we stopped in front of mellow looking bakeshop, with a subtle sign that says, 'Ed's Bakeshop'. It is very homey compared to the franchise branch in L.A. It's probably the original bakeshop.

Edith grins at us, "Who's ready for some fresh goodies?"

My brother and I immediately got out of the car. Rem rushed in while I waited for Edith to lock the car.

"Is this..."

"Yup," She confirms my suspicion, "This is the first of the many."

We entered the bakeshop and immediately, I saw Rem bouncing in front of the bakery display cases. The aroma of something sweet and yeasty filled my nose, and I can describe the bakeshop in one word: Home.

Edith and I laughed at his eagerness, I pat his head and said, "Rem, behave."

It seems as if I didn't exist because he pulled away from my touch and hopped towards Edith, "Please please please bake those cupcakes already please."

"Okay, take a sit in anywhere you like."

"YAY!" He cheered as he sat down on the chair right beside us.

Edith chuckles before looking at me and said, "Come, I'll show you something."

I followed her to the back of the shop and gasped when I saw how beautiful the place was.

"This kitchen is where it all started." She smiles proudly, "I used to try to teach your mother how to bake right over there," She points at the spot located at the corner, "But she wouldn't listen, because as I've said, we have different hobbies."

It wasn't that hard to understand. In my mom's world, manicures and pedicures, hair salons, parties, and nightlife are what it's all about. And obviously, in my aunt's world, pastries and sweets exist.

"Are you going to tell me your cupcake recipe?" I asked her with a teasing voice.

"Hmm..." She trails off, then she chuckles, "I heard that you like writing, Larry."

"Uh," How does writing relate to cupcakes?

"I used to..." I told her honestly, "But, I haven't been writing lately and stuff." For like... two years?

"Well, I have a deal for you." She smiled, "I'll give you the recipe for my cupcakes if you get to finish a book."

"Oh?" Easy.

"A romance book." Of course, it's not going to be easy. Nothing in this world is easy.

And so, I whined like a baby because I know I could not do it, "That's not fair."

Edith looked at me straight in the eyes and said, "Life is not fair to everyone, and that makes life fair."

I pouted, "Still, that is impossible, Edith. I can't write about something I've never seen before," I crossed my arms, "Or at least about something I don't believe in."

"That's your problem to solve, my dear niece." She chuckles, "Besides, do you think that Stephenie Meyer believes in vampires? Or has she seen them have sex?"

I gasped out, "Edith! Keep it PG 13!"

"Why? Rem's not here."

"No," I whispered, "but the readers might be too young."

"Oh." She paused, "Wait, did we just break the fourth wall?"

We both looked at the author and glared at her to do the job.

*The author is fixing the fourth wall*

"That's your problem to solve, my dear niece." She chuckles, "Besides, do you think that Stephenie Meyer believes in vampires? Or have seen them have done the deed?"

"Hmm," I muttered, "Touché."

She laughs, "Is it a deal?"

"When's the deadline?"

She smirks, "Christmas, next year."

I licked my lips because I don't think I can finish it by then, "When is the deadliest deadline?"

Edith laughs, "Deadliest deadline?"

"Yes," I nodded, "An extension from the deadline."

"Larry, it's the deadline. You can't extend the death of a line." She is not making sense, but I know her game. She wants me to forget asking for an extension.

"Edith, when's the deadliest deadline?"

"Okay, new year. And that's it." She chuckles while offering me her hand to shake, "It's a romance book, Larry. Not a zombie."

"Start writing the ingredients, Edith." I gave her a smug smile before shaking her hand firmly, "It's a deal."

How hard can it be?

I am now sitting in one of the tables of Ed's Bakeshop. The one far away from my brother who is busy playing Minecraft to stay patient. I need to focus, after all.

I took out a napkin from the napkin holder and also took one of the crayons that are on display beside it for kids. I took out my phone and gave myself a pat for charging it when I was taking a bath earlier. I went to google and searched: How to write a romance book?

I will definitely thank Google on my graduation day for doing almost half of the work I had to do, but still, just a half.

Google cannot answer everything, including the question I just searched. But I did get some important ideas.

Listen to love songs.

Read romantic books.

Watch romantic movies.

Fall in love.

The last part made me want to crumple the napkin and throw it to the other side of the shop. It is ridiculous. I wish on my lucky stars that I will never get to see the napkin ever again. Unfortunately, I can't do that.

I need to have that recipe for Rem. He loves me now, but having that recipe will definitely make him love me more. I admit, I sound like that obsessed stalker in cliche slasher films.

But I do need that recipe for rainy days. I turned the napkin at its' other side and started writing down scenarios. Random ones.

A few minutes later, I've jotted down enough notes that can last a chapter or two. I take down notes because I tend to forget about important details. I once named a random character "Synthia" that appeared in the first few parts of my book, then at the epilogue, I named her "Sylvia". My readers had to point that out for me. And that's why I need to write down notes.

Everything was going well. That was until I heard a curse word from a familiar voice and immediately, the napkin I had a love-hate relationship with is now drenched with brown liquid. Coffee.