Snow

Chapter nine

Forcefully, her unforgiving eyes pierce my own. Her body is perfectly positioned, like a tiger ready to pounce. Her arms cross and her lips turn down. The annoyance in her eyes is easy to see.

"What are you doing here?" She slashes.

Out of humour, I stare right back at her, "I train here too."

"And?" She sighs.

"I was told to come here by the receptionist, Lindsey, like you would know that hero's name." I look off thinking of my favourite average jo worker.

She rolls her eyes, "Fine. Come in."

Trotting in, I take off my bag and begin to stretch for today's dance practice. My legs are still stiff from yesterday, I try not to let that get to me. Jennie is just looking the mirror, glaring like an angry cat. By the looks of things I will have to combat her through the art of pleasant conversation.

Standing up, I move into position, "Dinner was good yesterday."

"It better of been," She continues to judge her own reflection.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snigger.

"What do you think?" She rubs away some non-existent smudged lipstick.

"I think you're being rude," I retort.

She shrugs, "Suit yourself."

"You could be more respectful." I take a step towards her.

Jennie scoffs, "It's just cooking."

"What would you know about cooking? It is an art passed down from generation to generation for the future of humanities stomach-"

"I made it."

"Wh-what?" I stand in disbelief.

"Shut up," She turns to face me, "You thought Lisa made it?" She raises an eyebrow.

Now that I think about it, it is pretty strange that nothing was burned. Still, the idea of this frosty girl being a five star chef is hilarious.

I smile, "I never took you for a cook."

"I don't cook," She sulks, "I just thought it would shut Rosie up."

My eyes soften, "It was a apology?"

"NO," Her face turns a light shade of red, "It was a 'fuck you' through food."

I chuckle, "Suuuuuure."

Running up she shoves me against the wall, "Never take that tone with me."

Dumbfounded, I step forward, "I am older than you," My anger rises, "Show some damn respect."

We stand for what feels like a good few minutes. Our arms cross and her face points at the ground. Faintly, a shimmer of regret can be seen from her eyes.

"We don't have to fight," I sigh, "Just get dinner this once and we'll call it even."

Jennie glares at me, "Bitch."

Rolling my eyes, I move towards her, trying to ignore the twang of guilt I feel, "You're buying dinner, like it or not."

Before Jennie can argue, Rosie and Lisa decide to enter the room. The friendly conversation they were having dies quicker than Jennie runs back to her bag.

A frown crosses my face at her immature actions. Why is she so cold?