Beyond Evolution

Kate was not a maverick in the kitchen. For the most part she was Goose She knew how to make a few things, and those few things she made pretty well, but if anyone expected her to make some amazing meal at the drop of the hat, they would be sorely disappointed. If it happened to be harder than boxed mac 'n cheese or throwing a bunch of things into a covered pan on the highest heat setting, she was out of her league. Today, she was trying her hand at grilled cheese: there was a frying pan, some cooking spray, and a mess all over the counters where she had been, though Kate herself seemed oblivious to the clutter. Two sandwiches, near-perfect as far as grilled cheese went, were on a plate a few feet to her right, while a stack of 'rejected' sandwiches that were burnt, horribly lopsided, or just generally inedible filled the nearest trash can. The two currently in her frying pan looked like they would join the pair on the plate, and after flipping them over, she transferred them to the same perfect pile where their cheesy, toasty siblings were waiting. And then, as though overestimating her own ability to eat, she started to make two more.

While they started sizzling, Kate lifted her head and the sheer magnitude of the mess she had made began to dawn on her: open containers of bread, butter, and cheese; melted lord-knows-what on the stove; crumbs everywhere. There was even a burnt to hell former sandwich (at least, that's what it looked like) in the sink, which she hastily shoved into the garbage disposal by jabbing at it with a spoon. Remembering that this wasn't her parents' home in California and that she would be expected to clean up after herself, Kate grabbed a paper towel and started, well, to clean.

[ Deacon! ]

Eventually she had to come back inside, she knew that. If she didn't do it on her own two feet she fully believed that King would come out there and drag her back to the mansion himself and Lucille was too proud for that. After changing out of her uniform -- sans gloves, she was pretty sure Adrien still had those -- she'd traipsed up to the dorms to shower. Exhausted, she tossed the PDA onto her bed as she passed it, dragging some clean clothes from a drawer. Jaya wasn't in their room and Luce assumed that she must be with Brian, that was a relief. How nice it must be for her to have an uncomplicated relationship with someone who might actually let someone help him. With a stiff, tight sigh she sank onto the edge of her bed and propped her elbows up on her knees, resting her scuffed hands against her face. Her right hand was giving off a hot, persistent throb that she could feel through the bandage against her cheek, the flesh felt like it was burning and stinging at the same time, as if she'd stuck it in a vat of acid or something, but she supposed she was just lucky that was the extent of the withering she'd gotten. Her left hand was uninjured, scraped a little at the knuckles, but she'd suffered worse playing hockey in the street as a kid. It was the headache that was the worst thing, she felt nauseous from it and knew that it was minor concussion; nothing too serious, they'd told her, by the time she'd gotten back to the school the split skin underneath her hair where her head had hit the sidewalk had already stopped bleeding. They'd cleaned it all the same, put some sort of gel adhesive in there instead of stitches. Honestly, Luce hadn't really felt it, she was far too preoccupied and a little spaced out.

( It seemed to take all her energy to lift herself from where she'd sat down on the edge of her bed, to get all the way to the bathroom and turn the shower on. )

[ narrative; closed ]