Sugar Rush

01 | blend | i

  

0 1

b l e n d

To mix two ingredients thoroughly.

(part i)

HEAT CLUNG TO my skin as I climbed the last flight of steps. It was a warm day, the first of many I knew would come this summer. I stopped in front of the door marked 2A, set the boxes down, then reached for my key.

It took several tries to twist the key in. The lock wasn't rusty but new—much like the flat itself. In fact, everything about this building seemed new, from the stain-free floors to the pristine white walls.

A sudden bump against the back of my knee made me jump. I turned around in surprise. "Oh, hello!"

This had to be the prettiest golden retriever I'd ever seen. Its bright eyes shone with boundless energy, and its sleek brown fur was the kind only young dogs had. It gave a short bark and wagged its tail as it looked up at me.

"It's nice to meet you too," I said, as I held out a hand for it to sniff. When the dog gave my fingers a quick lick, I smiled and dropped to my knees to rub its neck. "What's your name?" I wondered, and ran my hand along the collar to check. "Chip. Hello, Chip. I'm your new neighbour, Sugar."

The dog whined and burrowed further into my touch. I giggled when Chip licked my face, then I looked across the landing to flat 2B. Perhaps whoever lived there owned this dog?

As if on cue, a sharp, piercing whistle cut through the peace.

Chip let out a sharp bark in return and dashed off. Upstairs. There was only the fourth floor left, so Chip's owner must've lived above me. I smiled and watched the dog leave, just as Stella came trudging up the stairs.

"Bloody stairs," she wheezed, as she set the last box down. She patted her stomach, as though to check if her tiny baby bump was still intact, before she scowled at me. "If I wanted to hike up a mountain I would've joined a mountain-climbing expedition. Brand new building and they couldn't even install a bloody lift!"

I laughed. "Good thing I live on the second floor, then."

"If you lived any higher you'd be doing the moving alone."

"You know I'm eternally grateful that you helped me move one box, right?"

"Piss off," she grumbled, and aimed a half-hearted kick at the box with her black boot. "Who the hell has that many cookbooks? There are only a finite number of ways one can bake brownies."

"The cookbooks are useful since I never went to culinary school." I shrugged and then turned around to twist the key in the lock. "Anyway, speaking of brownies..."

The sweet scent of freshly-baked cakes wafted through as I opened the door. I'd made a batch earlier this morning and left it out to cool. I figured it'd make a great thank-you to Stella, who'd driven me to pick up my things from storage.

"Yes!" She pushed past me and bustled into the kitchen where the brownies were. While she feasted on the cakes, I pushed the remaining boxes in.

There. Done. I'd officially moved into my new home. I shut the door and looked around. Sunlight flitted in through sheer curtains; casting long shadows on the floor. The walls were a soft yellow, with a blend of brown and white furniture that the previous owner left behind. Living room, kitchen, one bedroom, one spare guest room, one bathroom. Small, simple, perfect.