Counting Stars

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE - LASAGNE

I finally had a purpose, which kept me in good spirits the next day.

Labrador bought my supplies. He even brought the Oreos - though they were confiscated from me by Puck before I could lay my hands on them.

He retreated to his room, his arms full of Oreo boxes, my hate-filled glare following him until the door slammed shut.

He would pay when I got my hands in him. With his life.

I had nothing to do but wait for my opportunity, so I decided to do one of my usual chores back at the house; I cooked.

This took up the better part of the day, and when I was done, I placed the vegetable lasagne on the countertop to cool down.

Grabbing a knife and fork, I moved the lasagne on the table and sat down, a plate and stray napkin that I had found in a cupboard set in front of me.

I was just about to dig in when I heard a cough from behind me. I turned around and saw three boys with their eyes fixed intently on the lasagne.

On my lasagne.

"So...you made food! That's awesome. So, uh, yeah...we'll just...sit down."

Mr Cocky Pants stuttered as all three of them moved forward.

Did they think they were getting some of my baby?

Hah, they really were funny boys.

I stared at them.

They stared back.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

I set my knife and fork down on the table.

Then Puck reached for the lasagne.

And all hell broke loose.