Jean beamed. "Don't stress yourself."

"I will be glad to do that. Haven't you forgive me?" Michael asked her.

Jean looked at me as if I should approve or say something. "Okay," she said at last.

Outside before the car, I wave to Jean in the car as Harry drove the car out. After they had gone, and after I had walked back to my room, locking the door. I wondered why Harry help her. Does he want to woo her? Would she accept if he woo her?

Jean can't do that shit. But I felt uneasy, I don't know why, and I don't want to know. Jean might tell him everything, I mean everything about me. I walked into the bathroom, watch my face and dry it with my towel. I need to find something to do to avoid thinking like this. I walked into the kitchen, paused, thinking what Harry would like to eat. He might not want what I cook, so I decided to cook rice.

My phone rang and I hurried into my room. It was Jean calling me. What happened? Harry wasn't at home yet.

"Hello."

"Hello, Annie." Her voice was filled with happiness.

"Are you at home now?"

"Yes, just walking into my room now. My dad was outside talking with Harry?"

Her dad? Harry? Why?

"Why?" I asked her at last.

"Just to appreciate. He first asked me who Harry was to me."

"And you say?" I paused, listening. Fear gripped me, and I started feeling jealous for the first time.

"Just friend, Annie. Nothing much." I imagined her smiling while saying that.

"Alright, Jean."

"He asked me to come tomorrow. Should I come?"

"To our house?" I asked.

"Yes and no. He wants to take us out."

"Tomorrow is Sunday, did you forget that? Won't you go to church, would your father allow you?" I need more questions to ask so that she would decide not to come, but none came.

"He had already told my dad, and Dad agreed."

Gosh. I don't want anything about going out with Harry to happen again. "Okay, Jean."

"Harry was lovely friend, Annie. He had turned into a new leaf. Why can't you give him one more chance?"

What does she mean? Anger boiled within in. Why's she saying this? I don't give him any chance before.

"What kind of chance, I don't understand you."

"Annie, calm down. Why did your voice change so quickly? We would talk about this later. Bye." She giggled.

Sighing, I feel to hear about it now.

"Are you there?" She asked.

"I said I don't understand what you said."

"I said we would talk about this later. It's a face-to-face kind of talk. Don't think about it too much."

"Okay." Thank God, my voice was low.

"Bye."
I hang up and dropped the phone on the bed, fell flat on it, and sighed. Jean is going beyond what I expected, too.

I don't... Hell. I don't like what she trying to tell me. Her lilt voice comes back to me, why don't you give him a second chance? Why should I give him a second chance to hurt me again? And then I can't think straight. As in, had he dated me before? Something is fishing, and I need to fish it out.

What does she mean by giving him second chance? Is it to love him again. If that was it. I won't care to lose a friend, because I can never love him again. I know I had changed, and am not like the girl I was back then when I often fall in love easily without knowing someone's attitude.

There is only a word I can just call it, it was lust. Maybe I lust after him and it backfires at me. Maybe I don't love him that time. Maybe he doesn't love me now. Maybe he was lusting after me. It doesn't concern me for now, for he might change like my father, and torture me till death.

Not long after returning from the dark world of my thoughts, I smelt a burning something, oh, the rice I was cooking was burning. I dashed out, off the cooker. I carried the pot down, and pour water on it. All the food has burnt. This is shit. How would Harry see me now that all the room was smelling of burnt food? I head inside for perfume. I adorned and waste it in the kitchen, dining room, and in my corridor.

A rapid knock came at my door. "Annie, what's smelling."

Oh shit, I forget to spray the perfume in the sitting room before Harry came back. I ignored him, staring, at my novel and the knock came again.

"Annie, are you alright. Annie, open the door. Are you sleeping already? Something's burning in the house. I will go check the kitchen first." He went and returned. "Annie, open the door. How did the food get burnt, Annie?"

I dropped the novel, climbed down the bed, and open the door. "It was unintentionally. I was in the bathroom when it happens." I paused, thinking about another word to say, but none came. And then I waited as he was staring at me as if I was dropped from the sky. I dropped my jaw, waiting for him to blame me.

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft now. "Hope you aren't hurt?"

I blushed. I didn't expect this. "Nothing happens to me."

"Good to know that. So you don't cook again?" He asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Are you not hungry?"

"Of course I am. I can't just force myself to cook again."

"Maybe I should go cook."

"You say?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I can cook, or you don't believe me. Just wait and see." He rubbed his palm and hurried into the kitchen. After thirty minutes, I walked to the kitchen door, peeping. He wore an apron, look more damned damsel and handsome. His dark and alluring hair glistened under the bulb. He looked back and I was startled.

"You are there. I don't know."

"I just came to drink water," I said, to bail myself from this awkward moment.

"Go to the fringe."

"I want warm water."

He looked at me. "What do you want to use it for?"

"To drink of course."

"Are you feeling well?" He walked close to me, placed his backhand on my neck. And I wondered how he change himself to be this charming nice man.

"I'm fine."

"Are are you sure?" His eyes were filled with disbelief.

"Will you get me the warm water or I should go back."

"There's no warm water here, they are hot. Go to my room, you would see warm water in a cooler."

In his room? I haven't entered his room before. I feel delighted to go, but I don't want to go for some reason.

"I will manage the water in the fringe."

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows. "Are you scared to enter my room?"

"Not at all. I'm not feeling like drinking warm water again."

"But you said you want to manage the water in the fringe." His voice carried weird emotions now. "Can I help you bring it from my room?"

"Don't worry," I said.

He sighed. "Okay." He go back to the pot, opened it, and the scent of the food was so alluring. It would be so delicious, although I haven't recognized the food he was cooking.

"Harry," I said in astonishment.

"Yes." He looked at me.

Who teaches you how to cook? I thoughts. But I must change the topic. Should I say I'm not interested in eating his food?

But at last, I let go of those thoughts as I watched him watching me, right now. "I'm going back to my room."

He was just looking at me; gazing in silence. Maybe I puzzled him. I turned, smiling. I will never let him know his food was alluring to my hungry stomach.