Mitchie and I head downstairs to the kitchen. “So, I’m assuming, by the name of the recipe, we’ll be needing Oreos?” Mitchie looks at me with a sly grin on his face. “There won’t be a cake if you eat the main ingredient” I playfully shove him. He laughs, “Isn’t flour the main ingredient of cake? And also, you know that Oreos are my favorite cookie. It was like you were begging me to come eat them.”

“While it is true that Oreos are your favorite, it’s also true that I did have you in mind while looking for a new cake recipe. And for the record, flour isn’t the main ingredient of cake. If it was, cake would taste like it. The main ingredient is supposed to be what the cake is based around. For example, if the main ingredient is strawberry, the cake has to taste like strawberries, have a strawberry color, and have strawberries as toppings.”

By the time I finished explaining, We were already in the kitchen. Mitchie slightly bows and says, “Thank you for the lesson, Ms. Manabu, I will never forget it.” I laugh, “You better not!” I hand him the recipe, “You start gathering ingredients, and I’ll gather the bowls and stuff.” He salutes, “Aye-aye, Captain!” I giggle. Mitchie always knew how to get a laugh out of every situation.

I open one of the cupboards above the kitchen counters. I look up and see that the glass bowl I’m looking for is at the very top shelf of the cupboard. I take a deep breath, and proceed to lift my leg up high enough so that my knee is above the height of the counter. After a few seconds of struggling, I’m on my knees at the top of the counter. I stretch my arms almost to their limits to reach the bowl until I hear a “Hey! What are you doing up there?”, I turn and see Mitchie staring at me with eyes full of concern.

He’s holding a carton of eggs in his hands and is standing in front of the fridge with one of its doors open. “Don’t worry,” I say, “I’m just trying to get the glass bowl that's at the top shelf.” “Why didn’t you ask me to get it for you?”, Mitchie speed-walks to the countertop that I’m kneeling on. “Because I asked you to gather ingredients, not help me gather supplies.” I stand up on the countertop and grab the glass bowl. “Besides, I can do things by myself.”

Mitchie puts the egg carton on the counter, then holds out his hands to me. I hand him the bowl and he sets it down next to the eggs. He holds his hands the same way again and looks up at me. “It’s your turn now.” “Are you sure you’ll be able to carry me?”, Mitchie smiles.

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“Of course. After all, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.” He gives me a playful smirk. I sigh. I crouch down, reach out my arms toward Mitchie, then lean forward into his arms. I close my eyes I feel his hands under my armpits. I open my eyes and push my feet off the counter. “See?” Mitchie looks at me with eyes full of warmth, the same warmth that I fell in love with, and continues, saying, “I told you I’d catch you.”

***

After all the materials and ingredients have been collected, we start reading the directions to make the cake. “Okay, so first we combine the dry ingredients in one bowl, then wet ingredients in another bowl,” I say as I grab the big jar of flour and bring it in front of me. I open the jar and reach to grab the measuring cup that was left in there and was repurposed for scooping up flour.

I scoop up one cup and put it in the large bowl. “Mitchie, could you check how much flour I need again?” Mitchie is taking eggs out of the carton. He glances at the recipe, “Seven cups. Wow. That’s a lot.” “Well, it’s supposed to serve about 13 people. But don’t worry. We’ll cut the recipe in half.” I grab my phone to calculate what half of seven is. “We’ll need 3.5 cups of flour. Mitchie could you calculate the rest of the ingredients while I pour in the flour?” I scoop up another cup of flour and put it inside the bowl.

As I reach into the jar to scoop up another cup, Mitchie asks, “Do we have to cut the amount of Oreos in half too?” He makes a pouty face. I giggle, “It’s an oreo cake, Mitchie not a cake oreo. We can’t have more oreo than cake. The cake wouldn’t be a cake anymore.” I put in the last full cup of flour, then look for the ½ cup that I know I put on the counter. I look behind the electric mixer and behind the bowls but can’t find it anywhere. I start to panic. “Hey.” Mitchie grabs my face with both of his hands. He looks at me determined. “We’ll find it. I mean, it’s probably on the floor or something, right?” “Yeah, probably.”

Both Mitchie and I crouch down and look along the floor. “Hey,” I ask, “Why do you care so much about finding a measuring cup? I mean, it’s just a measuring cup.” It is to other people, but not you.” “How are you so empathetic all the time?”, I ask. “I could ask you the same thing,” Mitchie replies. “So, should we continue to look for the measuring cup?” I nod.

I stare at him as he looks for a measuring cup that isn’t even his. Did he know that I was scouring the internet for hours looking for an oreo cake recipe that was just up his alley? Did he know that I was trying to look for a recipe that had the most amount of Oreos physically possible in a cake? Did he know that I wanted to make this cake, just for him? “I can feel you staring,” Mitchie says, breaking me out of my trance.

“Oh. Sorry.” My face becomes as hot as an open stove. Mitchie chuckles, “I mean, I can totally see why you would stare though.” My face heats up even more. “Mitchie,” I whine, “it’s not funny.” I hate how helpless my voice sounds. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you Saaya.” He has an apologetic look on his face. I start feeling guilty. “Mitchie, you don’t need to say-” “Found it!” Mitchie holds up the measuring cup and gives it to me. “Thanks,” I say. I’ll tell him what I was going to say later. But for now, I have a cake to make.