"Emotionally blackmail!" Nevaeh declared, feigning offence. "I shan't relinquish my waffle, go get your own."
"BETRAYAL. FROM MY OWN GIRLFRIEND." Cody lay on the cafe's plush sofa, which was pushed against the wall, and covered her face with a napkin mournfully. "I'M DEVASTATED."
"Sure you are. I'm trying to prepare my food critic's voice," The girl devoured a forkful of syrup drenched waffle. "I'm practising. For Monday."
"Lucky. Still can't believe you got the sweetest deal ever. You get to eat pastries and it counts as an extracurricular activity? The system's broken."
"It's community service," Nevaeh corrected. "Besides, it's not that sweet of a deal. The Johnsons are like disappointment in cookie form."
"What do you mean?"
"Every single year," Nevaeh swallowed. "They use raisins instead of chocolate chips."
Cody looked so horrified by this Nevaeh might as well had whipped out a boombox and started stripping.
"No," She whispered. "There's like, a special place in hell for people who do that!"
"Right?" Nevaeh polished off the last quarter of waffle on her plate. She held a fork to her upper lip, miming a moustache. "Okay, I want your honest opinion on my Gordon Ramsay impression. Ready?"
"I don't think Gordon Ramsey has a moustache-"
"Unimportant!" Nevaeh cleared her throat. "Okay, here goes."
"Where's. The. LAMB SAUCE?" She roared.
"Nice. Could use a little more angry British man though."
"WHERE'S THE LAMB SAUUUUUUUUCE?" She yelled, getting into character. No wonder she was chair of the drama club.
