Flashback

By Sana Rizwan

Fariha took me to a restaurant I had never been to before. The waiter handed out the menus and I
started to browse through mine when the door to the restaurant’s kitchen was pushed open by another
waiter. The aroma that wafted through reached me and I inhaled a familiar scent. Instantly, my thoughts
went back to when Ayesha and I had tried to bake a gourmet dish.

“You’re mixing it wrong, go slower!” Ayesha spoke disapprovingly.

“I’m doing it just right, okay?” I retorted.

She walked over and grabbed the beater from my hand in an attempt to show me how to do it but she
flicked the machine and the hot cream landed on my dress. Instinctually and fast as lightening I grabbed
the flour lying next to my hand and threw a fistful at her.

“Game on,” said Ayesha, narrowing her eyebrows at me.

“Bring it,” I whispered back, tauntingly.

I pulled back to reality when Fariha nudged me on the shoulder: the waiter was looking at me
expectantly with his notepad.

“I’ll have the parmesan with the gourmet cream, please.” I said, smiling and missing my best friend.