Lesson 3- Omelets of Hell

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When Nathan finally managed to toss Brook into a pristine stainless steel kitchen, she stumbled forward a little when he let go, but quickly whipped around and grabbed his shirt.

“Why were you so rude to him?”

“Not now,” Nathan sighed as he tried to unhinge her fingers. She didn’t listen.

“No! I want an explanation! Why did he say you were brothers because I didn’t see any black in Will’s-”

“Brook,” Nathan said with finality. “We’ll talk during lunch break so-”

“And what did you mean by-” Brook continued to demand when Nathan stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and only stepped back when Brook stopped fighting.

He watched with amusement as she leaned against a long granite counter and tried regaining her breath, red in the face with embarrassment and anger. “Have you calmed down?”

“On the contrary, I think I could kill you for what you just did,” Brook gasped as she wiped her mouth.

“But it was so romantic!” a high pitched, girly voice giggled from behind them. Brook whipped around to see a very young woman with honey blonde eyebrows and her hair in a loose, spiky bun smiling with dimples. She had pink manicured nails and her lips shone with gloss. Brook immediately disliked her.

“Well, see you later…honey,” Nathan chuckled softly in her ear before he left the room and gently closed the door behind him.

“I hope to marry a man like him one day,” the blonde smiled dreamily. “He’s so romantic and cool.”

Brook almost offered to give him to her, but decided not to comment on anything.

“Well,” the woman clapped her hands a few seconds later, “let’s get to work! I’m Lucy, your home-ec teacher, and lunch is coming up soon and you have a lot to learn if you want to be a good housewife. Now, I understand you have never cooked a day in your life?”

Brook felt embarrassed. “Yeah, the people at the orphanage said I was too clumsy to help out.”

Lucy nodded thoughtfully and then smiled cheerfully. “It’s okay! We’ll start off with a simple omelet then. Be a dear and get ten eggs from the fridge, will you?”

Brook luckily guessed what a fridge was, and as she swung open a large silver door, she was greeted with a cold breeze that mysteriously came from no where. “Now,” Lucy called as she got out a large china bowl and a fork, “hurry and don’t let the cold air out! The eggs are in the rack in the door.”

Brook hastily closed it after grabbing ten white eggs and setting them on the counter. Everything was going alright until Brook finished washing her hands and picked up an egg.


“I. Told. You!” Lucy shrieked as she smartly rapped Brook’s knuckles yet again with a spoon. “Hold the freaking pan exactly seven inches away from you while keeping your elbow bent 70 degrees at your sides!

“Never tilt the pan counter clockwise because it looks ugly and don’t wait until the egg is brown before you flip it! You want there to be a slightly yolky middle and a creamy yellow surface!”

Lucy kicked the sides of Brook’s feet. “What is this?” she clucked her tongue, “I thought I said you have to let your feet be shoulders’ width apart! And- oh my god, BROOK!”

Lucy hit Brook’s hip with her spoon with another shriek. “NEVER lean on any leg in particular, posture is everything when you cook! Nobody wants to eat food from a slouchy house wife who can’t even look feminine!”

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