In Lakewood, a small town with a reputation of crime, gangs, outcasts and violence, Lana Takumi is an orphan and a gang member disguised in ripped jeans of her late mother and old flannels of her late father. She feels stuck in an endless cycle of b...
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L A N A
"Why do you guys want to hang out with him all of a sudden? What's your plan?" I asked the girls while we were baking cookies for the Open day.
"At first I just wanted to scare the shit out of him, but then he said he trusts you and when you think about it, you spend a lot of time with him, both during student council stuff and during physics and math. So we just wanna make sure he's good to be around."
"As I said, he's too nice and too friendly," I reminded them.
Isha grinned. "Yeah, but we want to see for ourselves."
Carmen bumped her hip lightly against mine. "Come on, chill out. It'll be fun. We already promised we won't do anything that he doesn't want to do."
I sighed and nodded before glancing at the flour dusting the kitchens counter and the most of the floor. Carmen was cracking to eggs while having bits of eggshells stuck to her hair and Jada was trying to roll out the stone-hard dough. Meanwhile, Isha took a burnt batch of cookies out of the oven.
"Oh, shit. This didn't go as planned," she said, wrinkling her nose while waving the smoke out of her face.
This was kind of turning into a disaster. I knew we sucked at cooking, but I genuinely thought we would be able to bake decent cookies. At least not all of them were burnt. We hadn't fucked up completely. I knew Everett was still going to freak out though.
I had hopped onto the kitchen counter and started licking off the remaining cookie dough in the bowl from the batch that was currently in the oven when the kitchen door suddenly swung open. Everett walked in and his eyes might as well have exploded by the sight in front of him.
Three, two, one, here we go, I thought, sighing.
"What the hell?" Horrified, his eyes slowly took in the sight of flour smeared all over the kitchen counters and the floor, dirty bowls and dishes, and traces of cookie dough everywhere
"What is happening?" Everett spluttered. "It looked like someone puked cookie dough here instead of baking it. Are you guys baking cookies here or just playing around?"
"Hey, Prez. Yeah. The kitchen got a little messy, but we have four trays of perfectly baked batches and two burnt trays so we are well on the way. It's called progress."
Everett smacked his palm against his face before dragging it down.
"You know what the key to cooking is? Following the recipe," he deadpanned.
