"I'm hungry," Jasmine whined for about the millionth time.
"Hi hungry, I'm Hazel," I answered sarcastically, using the most classic dad joke of all time. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, Jasmine was lucky that I had even gathered enough motivation to get out of bed. She'd had breakfast about an hour prior to this conversation and she was still hungry.
"You're not funny," she yelled, stomping her feet impatiently.
"Nope, I'm Hazel," I replied, chuckling at a text Tara sent me.
"I'll tell mom on you," she threatened.
I rolled my eyes. What a threat.
"Oooh, I'm shaking in my pajamas."
"Did you know that the plural for platypus is platypi?" She asked suddenly.
"What? Why would I car-" I began but she cut me off.
"Did you know that the Northern leopard frog swallows its prey using its eyes? There is a rare genetic condition called methemoglobinemia that causes the skin to turn blue. There is a glacier in Antarctica that regularly pours out red liquid making it seem like the ice is bleeding. The Eiffel Tower leans slightly away from the sun. Porcupines can float in water. Sea otters hold hands when they're sleeping so they don't drift away from each other. French fries were invented in Belgium. Rats can tell the difference betwe-"
"I'll make you food, I'll make you food," I said, putting out a hand so she would stop.
A smug look appeared on her face.
"Human encyclopaedia," I muttered as I wandered into the kitchen.
Jasmine followed me into the kitchen, observing me as I scrounged through the cupboards. I pulled out a strawberry pop tart and passed it to her.
She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "I don't want this."
"Well if you're as hungry as you say you are, you'll die of starvation."
"Actually you can last about a week without food, but only two days without water," she recited.
I stared at her blankly. "Where do you get all this useless information from?"
"My brain, duh," she replied, skipping into the living room, leaving the pop tart looking lonely on the counter.
Fine then, I thought, I'll eat it.
And I did.
Jasmine wanted to bake cookies.
Now usually I wouldn't have a problem with baking, I'm actually quite a good cook. But when you add Jasmine into the equation it's never going to end well. Jasmine and baking are two words that should never be seen in the same sentence. Like ever.
It's like mentos and Coke. Explosive.
You see last time I baked with Jasmine she decided that our cake needed a little extra zing. So she tipped half a bottle of Tabasco sauce into the batter, and of course because it was a chocolate cake the colour didn't change. When the cake was finally cooked, she made me try a piece before her. Needless to say it didn't end well.
So you can see why I'd be a little hesitant to let her anywhere near the kitchen.
"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please-"
Don't cave, Hazel, be strong, I thought.
"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please-"
YOU ARE READING
Covered In InkTeen Fiction
Hazel Harper isn't your average girl. Haunting events from her past have kept her inside her own little bubble, a wall that she has subconsciously build over the years. As new people emerge into Hazel's life, she realises how much she has been mis...