The Bad Girl's Kit Kat (GirlxGirl)

17| Creative

Kiersten|

"Monkey, wake up, it's time for school" whispered the voice of my older lookalike.

"Nooo Kennedyyy." Whining, my hands covered my eyes to block out the sun. "Five m- more minutes"

I felt my covers being pulled off, making me flinch at the touch of cold air. "No, if you don't get up in 10 seconds, I'm going to tickle you."

"Ugh" I grunted, closing my eyes to make those seconds feel like minutes. She did this every morning because her timing was always what I call 'military time', where procrastination and being late doesn't exist.

"10,
9,
8,
7,
6,
5,"

Peeking through my fingers, I could see her hands getting closer to my sides.

" 4,
3,
2,"

I got up on my feet so fast that it frightened my sister. She pulled back, her dark brown hair that was tied in a ponytail, swinging immensely. Laughing at how startled she had been, "Good morning, good morning!" I began to sing from Donkey's part in Shrek. "The sun is sh- shining through! Good morning, good morning! To you..." pointing at some of the stuffed animals I had on my bed and then to Kennedy, "and you, and you!"

"You're so weird." Ken scoffed, rolling her eyes with a huge smile as she exited my room. I could hear her singing her own morning song in the hallway. "Good morning, to you. The birds are chirpinggg! Chirp chirp!"

Walking to my restroom, I quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face, and put a little bit of make up on. Usually in the mornings, I would cook breakfast while the rest of my family would take an eternity to get ready. I could feel the bristles rubbing against my gums and the minty flavor of peppermint overpowering my mouth. Spearmint was something I wasn't a huge fan of, there was an unappealing flavor that I knew was something I couldn't ever get used to. After I finished my bathroom routine consisting of oral hygiene and face cleansing, I threw on an old volleyball t-shirt with some jean shorts, twisting the hem of my shirt and tucking it in the back to give off a fitted look.

We had a head private chef but whenever I was in the mood to cook, he'd become my sou chef, assisting me in the kitchen. Apparently, before my accident it was always just me cooking. However, while I was recovering they had to hire someone else until I could get back on my feet. Now that I was in the kitchen, I started blasting some classical music as I began to heat up some pans with extra virgin olive oil while I had my sou chef prep me some whisked eggs, containing light cream and a hint of butter. I began chopping up peppers, tomatoes, spinach, mushrooms, onions, grapes, pecans, and grating a mixture of cheddar and mozzarella cheese. It was odd how I couldn't remember how to do things but not recall when I did them. Cooking had seemed like a different type of art form to me; it was another way to express myself... just on a plate.

Taking the finished eggs, I started to make 4 portions at a time and used a spatula to swirl it around so that the omelettes would stay light and fluffy. I put the toppings that corresponded each member. Mom liked hers with grapes, pecans, and feta cheese. Kennedy took hers with tomatoes, the mixture of cheeses, and spinach. While Dad had mushrooms, onions, both cheeses, and peppers. I on the other hand, mixed everything into my omelette besides the pecans and feta cheese. What would be the fun in always going wth the classics? I liked adventures even if it meant taking a chance with my food. When I was finished, I garnished them with herbs so that they'd look almost as pretty as a meal from Ratatouille.