You Give Love a Bad Name
Foods
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
Incase you're wondering, it isn't the clock that's ticking, it's my sanity. It's safe to say that if this class, Foods, would be any longer than two hours, I would seriously go insane.
Whoever made school mandatory, needed to die. Well not die, since they probably hit the bucket already, but at least go to hell, or something...
It was only fifteen minutes into the class, but my teacher, Mrs. Dalton, a small, plump, and overly hyper woman, in her late forties, was already running around and making sure that everything was ready for cooking in the miniature kitchens that were scattered around the classroom.
"Okay class, I understand that some of you already had this class last year, but in understanding that your cooking skills might have gotten a little rusty over the summer, I thought it would be a good idea to start out simple," Mrs. Dalton clapped her hands together, surveying the half asleep class with excitement. "How do chocolate chip cookies sound?"
"Like heaven!" Cara made sure that her opinion was heard loud and clear in the otherwise quiet classroom. "You're my heroine Mrs. D!"
Mrs. Dalton beamed at Cara and walked back to the main kitchen in the front of the classroom, which also served as her desk, and picked up the lesson plan. "Now, we will get into groups of two," at that Cara caught my eye and I smiled, "and we'll have three groups to every kitchen. But, I will assign your partners."
The students groaned, and I sank lower into my seat in frustration.
"You've got to be kidding me," someone mumbled under their breath next to me.
I turned my head in the direction where the voice came from, to see a girl my age, with green eyes and dark brown hair, with a bright pink streak going through it on the left side. She was dressed in pink Converse, jeans, and a black Misfits shirt. One thing was certain, she had an awesome fashion and music taste.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the sound of my teacher's voice brought my attention back to the front of the room, "I know that I'm a horrible teacher, and that it isn't fair. But guess what? Life isn't fair, and the older you get, the more it will become apparent to you. Besides, I have a reason for doing this; it's a perfect way for you to meet new people. Who knows? Maybe I'll pair you up with your future best friend."
"I don't need anymore best friends," I heard Cara grumble to my left, which made me snort. "And I already met everyone who is remotely cool enough to be my friend."
"I love how nice you are," I turned to face my best friend, grinning, as Mrs. Dalton started to name the groups of two. "Maybe some of that irresistible Smith charm will rub off on me a little, so I can obtain at least a little of your awesomeness?"
"You need all the cool points you can get, darling," Cara assured me, sticking her tongue out mockingly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Frank is slowly turning you into a pansy, that's why," Cara laughed, dodging my badly aimed poke.
"Psh, as if! I'm not the one who's lovesick over Jake," I smirked triumphantly. "So, ha. In your face, biaaatch."
Cara rolled her eyes, a slight blush creeping onto her pale cheeks. "Is it that obvious?"
I nodded, smiling. "The guys are already betting on you two. Just a heads up."
Cara was about to say something, but I put my index finger to my lips after hearing Mrs. Dalton call my name.
"Helena Way and Melanie Hamilton! You two are partners. Please proceed to kitchen number five."
"Lena! It's Lena," I corrected my teacher with annoyance, but she was already busy announcing the next pair of partners.
"I guess I'll see you later," I said, picking up my notes on measurements. "Don't set the place on fire."
"Ha ha ha," Cara smacked me lightly on the arm, pouting.
I chuckled and slowly walked over to my assigned kitchen, to see the girl with the Misfits shirt already looking at her notes with a glint of desperation in her eyes.
"Hey, I'm Lena," I said cheerfully, trying to catch her attention.
The girl looked up, and smiled. "Hi, I'm Melanie. I hope you're a good cook, or else we're screwed. I burn water."
I laughed at that remark, already warming up to her. "I think we'll manage. I have two brothers, their friends, who practically live at my house, and a mother who works twenty-four seven, so I pretty much make all the meals at my place."
"Two brothers? You're not related to Mikey Way, are you?" Melanie asked me with interest, sitting down on the surface of the shiny counter.
"Yep, he's my brother," I replied, getting out a mixing bowl.,"even though we are waaaay different. I guess I'm more like my oldest brother Gerard, he graduated last year, attitude and appearance wise. You know, that 'artsy type'. Mikey's more of the 'computer genius'."
"I have Mikey in my Calculus and Biology classes. Let's just say that you're lucky to have Mikey as a brother. As much as I love my sister, she's a Sophomore by the way, I'd switch siblings in a heart beat," Melanie got off the counter and started measuring the flour. "You're not twins are you? I mean, you don't really look alike, but you're in the same grade and all."
I snorted, and turned to face her. "Nah, Mikey's a year older than me. I started school early, that's why we're both Seniors."
"Oh?" Melanie stopped measuring flour and scrunched up her nose as the white, powdery substance landed on her shirt. "So what's the story behind that?"
I chewed on my lip ring, debating in my head whether to tell the person that I just met one of my most embarrassing moment to date. "It's a long and boring story..."
Melanie stopped dusting off her shirt to flash me a bright smile. "Well, this class is two hours long. We've got time. That is unless you don't want to tell me?"
I smiled, thinking that even though we've just met, I liked Melanie enough to tell her something that only my closest friends knew. "I guess you could say when I was little, I was a needy kid..."
Incase you're wondering, it isn't the clock that's ticking, it's my sanity. It's safe to say that if this class, Foods, would be any longer than two hours, I would seriously go insane.
Whoever made school mandatory, needed to die. Well not die, since they probably hit the bucket already, but at least go to hell, or something...
It was only fifteen minutes into the class, but my teacher, Mrs. Dalton, a small, plump, and overly hyper woman, in her late forties, was already running around and making sure that everything was ready for cooking in the miniature kitchens that were scattered around the classroom.
"Okay class, I understand that some of you already had this class last year, but in understanding that your cooking skills might have gotten a little rusty over the summer, I thought it would be a good idea to start out simple," Mrs. Dalton clapped her hands together, surveying the half asleep class with excitement. "How do chocolate chip cookies sound?"
"Like heaven!" Cara made sure that her opinion was heard loud and clear in the otherwise quiet classroom. "You're my heroine Mrs. D!"
Mrs. Dalton beamed at Cara and walked back to the main kitchen in the front of the classroom, which also served as her desk, and picked up the lesson plan. "Now, we will get into groups of two," at that Cara caught my eye and I smiled, "and we'll have three groups to every kitchen. But, I will assign your partners."
The students groaned, and I sank lower into my seat in frustration.
"You've got to be kidding me," someone mumbled under their breath next to me.
I turned my head in the direction where the voice came from, to see a girl my age, with green eyes and dark brown hair, with a bright pink streak going through it on the left side. She was dressed in pink Converse, jeans, and a black Misfits shirt. One thing was certain, she had an awesome fashion and music taste.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the sound of my teacher's voice brought my attention back to the front of the room, "I know that I'm a horrible teacher, and that it isn't fair. But guess what? Life isn't fair, and the older you get, the more it will become apparent to you. Besides, I have a reason for doing this; it's a perfect way for you to meet new people. Who knows? Maybe I'll pair you up with your future best friend."
"I don't need anymore best friends," I heard Cara grumble to my left, which made me snort. "And I already met everyone who is remotely cool enough to be my friend."
"I love how nice you are," I turned to face my best friend, grinning, as Mrs. Dalton started to name the groups of two. "Maybe some of that irresistible Smith charm will rub off on me a little, so I can obtain at least a little of your awesomeness?"
"You need all the cool points you can get, darling," Cara assured me, sticking her tongue out mockingly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Frank is slowly turning you into a pansy, that's why," Cara laughed, dodging my badly aimed poke.
"Psh, as if! I'm not the one who's lovesick over Jake," I smirked triumphantly. "So, ha. In your face, biaaatch."
Cara rolled her eyes, a slight blush creeping onto her pale cheeks. "Is it that obvious?"
I nodded, smiling. "The guys are already betting on you two. Just a heads up."
Cara was about to say something, but I put my index finger to my lips after hearing Mrs. Dalton call my name.
"Helena Way and Melanie Hamilton! You two are partners. Please proceed to kitchen number five."
"Lena! It's Lena," I corrected my teacher with annoyance, but she was already busy announcing the next pair of partners.
"I guess I'll see you later," I said, picking up my notes on measurements. "Don't set the place on fire."
"Ha ha ha," Cara smacked me lightly on the arm, pouting.
I chuckled and slowly walked over to my assigned kitchen, to see the girl with the Misfits shirt already looking at her notes with a glint of desperation in her eyes.
"Hey, I'm Lena," I said cheerfully, trying to catch her attention.
The girl looked up, and smiled. "Hi, I'm Melanie. I hope you're a good cook, or else we're screwed. I burn water."
I laughed at that remark, already warming up to her. "I think we'll manage. I have two brothers, their friends, who practically live at my house, and a mother who works twenty-four seven, so I pretty much make all the meals at my place."
"Two brothers? You're not related to Mikey Way, are you?" Melanie asked me with interest, sitting down on the surface of the shiny counter.
"Yep, he's my brother," I replied, getting out a mixing bowl.,"even though we are waaaay different. I guess I'm more like my oldest brother Gerard, he graduated last year, attitude and appearance wise. You know, that 'artsy type'. Mikey's more of the 'computer genius'."
"I have Mikey in my Calculus and Biology classes. Let's just say that you're lucky to have Mikey as a brother. As much as I love my sister, she's a Sophomore by the way, I'd switch siblings in a heart beat," Melanie got off the counter and started measuring the flour. "You're not twins are you? I mean, you don't really look alike, but you're in the same grade and all."
I snorted, and turned to face her. "Nah, Mikey's a year older than me. I started school early, that's why we're both Seniors."
"Oh?" Melanie stopped measuring flour and scrunched up her nose as the white, powdery substance landed on her shirt. "So what's the story behind that?"
I chewed on my lip ring, debating in my head whether to tell the person that I just met one of my most embarrassing moment to date. "It's a long and boring story..."
Melanie stopped dusting off her shirt to flash me a bright smile. "Well, this class is two hours long. We've got time. That is unless you don't want to tell me?"
I smiled, thinking that even though we've just met, I liked Melanie enough to tell her something that only my closest friends knew. "I guess you could say when I was little, I was a needy kid..."