Teagan.
It had felt like months since the last time I've spent quality time with my roommates. I've been too wrapped up in Uni, and Louis, and Gallagher, and Louis and Gallagher, and not to mention, Louis' sheets- I found that I haven't made any time for my friends.
This sad fact hadn't hit me until three days ago. It was a Wednesday morning, and I was slumping back to my dorm room after another night spent in Louis' bed when I walked in and my dorm was in complete disarray.
Costa was yelling at the top of her lungs, a completely red face as she stomped around in search for her left Dr. Marten boots. She hobbled over to Delilah, threatening her if she didn't tell her the whereabouts of her beloved shoe.
Except Delilah didn't know. And she was clearly pissed that Costa could possibly think she took her damn shoe and hid it. It was a childish act, Delilah spat, completely beneath her. But Delilah had problems of her own. She had a paper due for a lecture she was to attend in ten minutes, and our trusty printer broke down whilst in the middle of delivering her ten page masterpiece. She was busy hitting the broken thing, having her own argument with some bloke named Rahj on tech support.
And Harley, the girl was delirious after a long night out with her boyfriend, Josh the drummer. She had gotten really drunk into the wee hours of the morning, still not of complete mind or body, she was singing, "My Heart Will Go One" at the top of her lungs. The poor thing was horribly off key, and obviously tone deaf.
I figured with the madness, a girls' day was definitely within reason. This girls' day consists of a nice breakfast courtesy of Harley (of french toast and fresh cut strawberries) and then a day at the spa, afterwards, some minor shopping, and finally dinner and a movie. We'll end our night with beers in our dimly lit dorm room in our own true fashion.
I should've known this day, however would not go as planned as soon as I walked out of my bedroom dressed and ready to eat my breakfast to find Harley sputtering over the stove, frantically moving to place the burning pot in the sink- except that wasn't any better, as there was only more smoke.
"You're an idiot." I muttered, shoving her out of my way irritably. Our dorm had an unfortunate lack of windows in it, so opening the two that were provided didn't do much to clear the smell, but the smoke was out and the fire alarm had yet to go off. I quickly washed the pan out, glaring at her when I was finished.
Harley pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm too hungover for this." she whimpered. "Can't we just do this on another day?"
"No!" I yelled. "I went through so much to plan every single detail of this day- you will not ruin it! I won't let you. So march your tiny ass into the bathroom, pop one or two painkillers, gulp down some water, and brush your hair God Dammit! We are going to have fun today."
She said nothing as she stood in her spot, blinking at me once... twice... three times before going to do what I said.
"I'll handle breakfast!" I yelled after her, sighing when I heard the bathroom door shut behind her, I tapped my fingers on the counter top in front of me while biting my bottom lip. We had pancake batter and left over chocolate chips from when Costa and I tried- and failed- to bake a giant cookie. Chocolate chip pancakes with a bowl of strawberries on the side seemed most enticing to me.
I quite enjoyed cooking, the actions put me at ease, and the end result was always a good reward for me. I remember being eager to help my Gran cook Sunday dinners, back when my family was close and I actually adored my mother, and my father wasn't a sarcastic fucker- and Gallagher wasn't...
My Gran told me of all her culinary secrets, me only- not even my mother or any of my cousins knew of her recipes, her private cookbooks. I remember wanting to go to culinary school when I was younger, and my mother shut that idea down. She said chefs do not make the kind of money that would be needed to support my lifestyle- apparently, being a teacher does.
