Jori

When Angel's sing...

Jori.

It was the weekend and me and Josh were the only ones in the house. He was helping me cook for Chelle.

“Oww.” I pointed at my hand as the oil flicked onto my skin.

“Aww Jay, stop burning yourself. Pour the tomatoes in I think, before the onions burn. I know how she hates burned soggy onions. Ah shit you didn't chop them.”

“Yeah I did.”

“But it's not square, it's pakistani style.”

“What the hell is pakistani style breeev?” I said screwing my face.

“Like donar kebab chopped onions, the “moon”, it ain't right blud.” We looked in the pot and I saw his point.

“We need Hayden.”

“Alie. He knows weather to take it out dry it and then chop it, or just do a new one and bin that.”

“Oww I want Hayden, Chelle hates moon looking onions, they don't digest.”

“Shit we're pissed!”

“Init.” I sighed deeply.

“Should we take them out and dry them?”

“You can't dry onions can you?”

“Just put them in a napkin or tissue and pat them.”

“Oh is it, but Hayden doesn't do that.”

“Yeah but he makes diced ones, he does it correct first time, we made moon ones.”

“Oww. I can't put it in napkins, think of hygiene! I don't want nothing happening to Chelle.”

“Your right bruv, if it was Ryan or Jayden that shits fine, but a chick like Chelle, narh! Your right fam. Scrap that! Let's do it again.” He rolled up his sleeves. I nodded and took my hair band out and put it in tighter. I got another chopping board and sat down, whilst he got onions and a knife.

“Ite there, come on Jori!” He cheered. I concentrated and chopped and diced them.

“YAY! It's squares! No more moons.”

“WHO'S THE BADDEST BITCH!” I roared.

“Wait get up let's shuffle.” I got up and we started shufflin and singing Party rock. We got the laptop and thought of recipes to make sick bolognese.

“Erm Jamie Olivier's?”

“Nah hate that breh, he's the reason why my shit changed colour in Secondary school! Some next food.. next one?” I screwed.

“Errm Gordon Ramsey?”

“Nah, he's shit.”

“BBC food reciepe?”

“Nah it's going to taste like lumpy stuff.”

“Erm, let me call your mum.”

“Can she make that?” I thought to myself.

“YES! Remember you 12th birthday when she made spaghetti it was so sick, and had spice. She's sick.” He shouted.

“Oh yeah! How comes she don't cook it now?” I wondered.

“Because she's Aff',” He shrugged. I shrugged too. He called her.

“Aunty Lydia. It's me Josh.” He kept nodding.

“Yeah me and Jori are making Bolognese, and like you don't put the mince in raw do you?” He started nodding and stared at me.

“Oh right yeah, see I told him! ...Yeah...yeah!” He started laughing.