Chapter 4: Chinese Takeout

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Chapter 4: Chinese Takeout

“No, no, no! Slice the tomato, don’t chop!” I really shouldn’t be screaming orders at a man chopping tomatoes, since he’s the one holding the knife but instead of getting stabbed by Ryan he just shakes his head and chuckles.

 “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?” how dare he question my knowledge for cooking? This girl watches the cooking channel religiously. Right now I knew that Ryan was chopping the guts out of these tomatoes, he wasn't suppose to have them look like they were going to be fed to toothless zombies.

 “Give me that!” I snatch the knife from him carefully but instead of refusing he politely puts it on the cutting board and backs away from it.

 “I’m going to go stir the pot.” Ryan rinses his hands and walks toward the stove.

 At this point our arguments about working in the kitchen have ceased, Ryan has sucked up that buttercup after I persisted that he needs to learn how to cook by himself if he wants to live independently. It took around a good hour to stop his whining and complaining about not eating the surrounding food until he finally got his head in the game. Troy Bolton probably appeared to convince his stubborn brain.

 “The doors are opening!” Gabe screams her lungs out even though there are about four people in the kitchen preparing the upcoming lunch service. Chef Alexander comes behind Gabe and gives her a stern pat on the back saying it was his job to yell at the staff, speak that truth Cheffy!

 A tap reaches my shoulder and I turn around to see a familiar face, I didn’t know her name but she did visit the shelter often, “Mari could you slice the garlic bread for me? I have to go to the bathroom.” I nod and she gives me a grateful smile, mumbles thanks, and runs out the doors.

 Oh yeah! I can slice anything up in this place, tomatoes, garlic bread you name it! I’m like a ninja; I bet all my coffee money that if the app Fruit Ninja were real I would be the all time champion! I’ve never cut up a flying watermelon, maybe I wouldn’t want that or else I might cut my nose. Blood plus Mari equal complete meltdown. Funny story, when I was around thirteen I went to the bathroom to find myself blood stained, let’s just say that was the first time in my life I had ever cursed. My mother had to come and calm me down; apparently I’d learned that in health class but during that period (haha get it?) I was making these yarn bracelets. Kids now a days make these things called Rainbow Loom, majority of my sisters’ leave their Loom board thing in my room and leave me to be a victim to the vicious Rainbow Loom. Let me tell you personally that stuff hurts as much as Lego.

 “You did that on purpose!” All of a sudden I hear a gruff voice from the cafeteria tables, I run to see what all the commotion is about. Instantly I spot a familiar figure’s back. Stupid boy. Before I know what’s happening I scurry between the two fighters and give them some distance. One smells of cheap beer and tomato sauce while the other smells of pine trees. Why the hell does Ryan smell like the forest? What if he’s a werewolf? Oh my gosh! I just got a Jacob, score!

 “It was a freaking accident dude, chill!” For someone telling another person to “chill” he sure didn’t sound, “chill”. He sounds like he’s going to explode into flames, which would be all right since Ryan's smoking hot.

 Focus Mari! You’re turning into Brock.

 “Ok everyone, take deep breaths we don’t need to solve this with violence,” I glanced at the competitors hands seeing their hands curled up into tight fists, “Punches and kicks can break bones and sticks. But words will always hurt one way or another?” I got several strange looks from random people; okay I’m not good at talking when I’m on the spot. Ryan’s amused eyes stared at me; at this moment the drunk used me as a distraction to attack his face.

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