Chapter Text
Repetitive, instruction-based tasks were always easier than contemplating decisions for yourself. Great for taking your mind off anything that was bothering you.
Thankfully, since Sadie's family literally runs a bakery, they have a lot of baking supplies on hand!
Julius sighed. "I can't bake."
Sadie grinned. "The great Julius Gong can do everything but bake? C'mon, it won't be a disaster. I'll be beside you."
"I burned noodles when I was younger."
"And you had ten years to improve."
Julius sighed again. He knew logically he was way better at cooking now, even if he did have people in his house to do it for him—wealthy people things, just like how he was a driver for kindergarten.
He could cook pasta from scratch; he could make churros that he imagines giving Sadie (after he perfects them further, it's an endeavour he is currently striving towards between assignments and other work); he could even make traditional Chinese dishes for the New Year with his mother.
But baking?
That's a whole other beast. Cooking and baking were different. Cooking was an art—something that you could adjust along the way. Using the correct temperature, techniques, and all, you can have a great meal. But for baking, the results are uncertain. The humidity and even the temperature of the bloody air affect every molecule of the dough. Julius can deal with the hardest math questions in existence, but he cannot control every variable in the world.
It was a nightmare in science experiments.
"Baking is not the same as cooking," Julius relented. Sadie ate the meals he cooked before when she accidentally left her lunchbox at her house. Julius brought two lunch boxes—one for after his sporting activities to charge back up—but he immediately gave it to her when she dejectedly told him her mistake that she noticed when the bell rang.
Sadie told him it was delicious, to which Julius started baking more elaborate dishes to give her for lunch, like some penguin picking the perfect pebble for his mate.
"Close enough. Both involve an oven sometimes," Sadie joked lightly, nudging his arm. She had to cheer him up more. She could tell he was down in the dumps ever since they stepped into her room.
In Sadie's books, Julius should never be sad. He can be prideful, bragging about his latest win, being insufferable with his perfect appearance—all but being sad. That was Sadie's exception, something as natural as their rivalry.
Even if she doesn't know why he's depressed, she knows him enough that it was no minor issue—something that was probably boiling underneath his skin since a couple of months ago.
As Sadie pulled out the giant bag of flour, Julius laughed. "Why is there so much flour in your house? I thought your bakery had a kitchen inside?"
It was of a diabolical size, almost comically so. It looked like it came from a Disney movie—which was always exaggerated in Julius' opinion—but it was real.
He clutched his stomach from his loss of breath until Sadie pulled out an even bigger jar of flour. That has to be at least half her size.
The sight was so absurd that he forgot everything he was worrying about.
His grades, his 'second place' regrets, his argument with his parents—all of it poofed into the very air he was gasping for.
Sadie rolled her eyes, even if she had a smile on her face. "So funny? Don't die on me here, Julius. We have cookies to bake. I'm feeling chocolate chip. And if you're so bad at baking, then you can just help me roll the dough, set the oven, and grab the eggs."
His laughter subsided into a thankful gaze. He wants to cry from how she handles him. He's not useless in the kitchen to her. He could do other things if he couldn't bake. It was something he never considered before. He always had to do everything himself because everyone else was looking at James half the time; because James could do everything himself too since he studied abroad alone when he was a child.
She always makes everything so much simpler.
So what if he can't bake? He has Sadie. He can rely on her to make everything better—it was the reason he went to find her anyway. He can be her 'incompetent trophy boyfriend' that they see in those shows for a day.
He giggled, a happier one. "So, Miss Sadie, oh so professional baker, what do I need to bring to your highness?"
She grinned. That's the look she wants. "Hmmm... Ten eggs, milk, and two Coca-Cola. We're going to be here for a bit—let's bake for my neighbors too, and maybe some for you to bring home."
"Aye aye! Ten eggs, milk, and two Coca-Cola!"
They giggled again before Julius went to grab what he needs to get.
Mission success. Second mission, keep Julius happy.