Nisha and Oreoles

"Oh my," Catarina suddenly exclaimed. "How could I forget? Are you hungry?"

It had been some time since we emptied the mugs. Clouds cloaked the sun, turning the day surprisingly pleasant. Perfect for a day out. Perfect for enjoying the lake. The surface had the tiniest of ripples from the gentle breeze kissing the cool water playfully. The clear water turned dark silver reflecting the heavy clouds above. The voice of the lake reached our ears, asking if it was going to rain.

"It's not going to rain," Catarina said with a smile.

I couldn't know if she spoke to me or to the lake.

The question woke my slumbering stomach, and I nodded.

"If you didn't bring it up, maybe I wouldn't know. But yeah, I am hungry. You cook?"

Catarina looked at me amused. She had such a beautiful smile.

"Of course. You can't?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head.

The answer didn't please her. The smile fell. Her eyes became smaller as she turned thoughtful. Her lips were pursed, opening when she found the words to speak. And she brightened as she spoke.

"It is one of the essential skills in our line of work. We need to watch after our health. I'm thinking you're like us, get completely absorbed in what you're doing and forget all else. A lot of times, we'll find ourselves alone. We must know how to cook for ourselves."

I listened carefully. But I didn't agree.

"I'm never alone," I said, immediately realising something was wrong with my words.

I needed a minute to correct myself.

"I mean, there's always someone to cook for me."

"What if you're studying all by yourself?"

"Daddy and mommy will come over."

I couldn't understand what was so funny. Catarina was laughing so hard.

"Okay, come, I'll be mommy for now."

She walked us back inside. She sat me on the outer side of the counter, while she began cooking on the inside.

"I can't cook much. I love instant ramen. There's so many flavours. Keep us going for weeks without tiring out. I keep forgetting, you're only fifteen. You must love instant ramen."

"No," I answered slowly. "I never had instant ramen."

She was surprised. She stopped, to look at me in disbelief.

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah, I'm real."

"That's not what I mean. Forget it. How can you have never had instant ramen?"

"Mommy always cooked soft noodles, fresh. Daddy makes the best fried noodles. Whatever flavour we feel like, they cook it. I never had instant ramen."

"Who are you?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that? I'm no one."

"I'm sure you are."

She was shaking her head as she turned to the stove and boiled water.

"Today, you'll have instant ramen. Let's take pictures. Of the bowls of ramen. Of you eating. And we'll send them to your mommy and daddy. I'm sure they'll love them."

I knew the look on her face. I had seen it many times on my sister and my cousins. They had the same look every time they were planning trouble. They were all around my age. And right now, Catarina looked no older.

"Okay," I said.

"Nisha loves instant ramen too. She grew up eating the stuff, though. Not at all like you. I don't think we'll meet many like you. No, wait. Dia and Pratt are exactly like you. I get it now. That's why you guys hit it off so easily. Birds of a feather."

At the end, she added the question softly, to herself. But I still heard her.

"Just who are you?"

I felt sad, shaking my head.

Just then, Nisha burst in. She pushed the door open so forcefully, a current of wind blew right through the cottage. And she banged the door shut so loud, the walls shook. And before any of it could fully register, she was by me.

I was a few inches over five feet. Average height, considering that I was still growing. Nisha looked a half inch shorter than seven feet. So tall. And so beautiful. She was like the prettiest cloud, so pure and so gentle. She was grinning so bright, the sun would be shamed. She was holding a bunch of flowers, which she offered to me.

"Hi," she spoke in the prettiest voice I had ever heard. "You must be Dean. I'm Nisha. We'll be together from now. These are oreoles. Back home, they represent the start of beautiful friendships."

"I think he's smitten," Catarina said, loud enough.

Nisha and I were blushing. I grabbed the purple flowers and thanked Nisha.

I looked at Catarina and spoke with none of the embarrassment on my face.

"Maybe I am. She is the prettiest girl. Don't be jealous."

Nisha jumped a step back, her eyes darting between Catarina and me.

Catarina was surprised for a second, and then she burst out laughing.

"I love you," she said to me. "But I'm not jealous."

"I'll wash up," Nisha blurted inaudibly, and ran into her room.

"She's very shy," Catarina said, still laughing and stirring the ramen in the boiling water.

"She's very tall," I said, an eye glued to the closed door of Nisha's room.

"How tall do you think?"

"Seven feet?"

"Don't let her hear you say that," Catarina said, laughing again. "She's very sensitive about her height. She's actually only an inch over six feet."

"That's not very tall than," I said, pleased. "I can catch up."

"You're really smitten," Catarina said, almost to herself.

"I don't know about smitten," I answered. "But she is very pretty."

"I see. I understand. Outside of runes, you're a complete fool."

"What do you mean," I asked, truly confused.

Catarina didn't explain. Shaking her head, she continued stirring. A minute later, the ramen was done.

"Nisha, come out now, food's ready," she screamed.

"Okay, coming," Nisha screamed back.

As soon as she walked out, and saw us, Nisha was embarrassed again. And fell completely silent.

"Don't let her fool you," Catarina whispered to me. "When it comes to runes, she's very loud and extremely forceful."