Lycanthropy and Me: The First Semester(mlm)

Day 34. Saturday, Waning Crescent

Hunter looked up from the flashcard. "Give me three components of Homeostasis."

Grayson looked at the ceiling. "The receptor, the effector, and the control center." He looked down at the worksheet. With exams imminent and attention spans waning, they decided to head into town for a study date at the local diner. Hunter was happy to be off-campus and away from his room--where a sudden bout of insomnia coupled with procrastination had caused him to watch improv skits on his phone for three hours straight the previous night.

With no plans of his own Grayson was happy to oblige. He watched Hunter furrow his brow as he went over his notes. There was something charming about the way he bit his lip as he tapped his pen against the table. Hunter's tawny eyes suddenly went from the paper to Grayson's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Grayson replied, not looking away.

Hunter could feel his face burning. He looked back down at his work. "Quit staring at me." He smiled, despite his request. "Creep."

A waitress came to their table. She wore an old-fashioned brown dress with a white apron, smeared from years of grease, oil, and cream. Her curly red hair and bright eyeshadow reminded Grayson of the Lucille Ball comedies he had watched with his father. The woman, whose nametag read Jan, carried two full plates with her.

"Let's see here. Cheeseburger-deluxe-medium-rare-no-pickles." She set the plate in front of Hunter, who moved his books aside. "And a salad for the big boy." She plopped a plate in front of Grayson. "Holler if you need anything else."

Hunter found the contents of his plate to be normal; a large cheeseburger consisting of a sesame seed bun, a large beef patty, and a slab of cheddar cheese with slices of tomato and lettuce on the side, and a small bowl of steak fries.

Grayson's player was not such a simple affair. Upon finding that practically the whole menu was swimming in oil or loaded with sugar, Grayson settled on the mysterious 'salad' found on the bottom of the laminated list. The 'salad' was a concoction of cherry tomatoes, lettuce, strips of chicken, croutons, and small blocks of cheese, all bogged down with a thick orange sauce. The plate looked more like a soup dish than a salad. It was clear from the horrified look on Grayson's face that he wasn't sure what to do.

"I can fix this." Hunter declared, taking a small plate from the stack next to their table's condiment rack. He jabbed at the soggy mess until he unearthed a few not-so-soggy cherry tomatoes. Placing them on the plate, he went back in to rescue two strips of chicken and a large chunk of lettuce. "There. A deconstructed, reconstructed salad. What do you think, Judge? Can I go on Masterchef?"

Grayson smiled. "Nice plating. Good use of color."

They both laughed.

"But honestly, thank you. I was lost on what to do for a second." Grayson admitted.

Hunter shrugged. "No problem." He took the ketchup bottle from the condiments rack, took off the lid and shook it once over the bare burger. A large amount of ketchup gushed out. "Good Grief. That's great. Just great."

"Okay, Masterchef. Let's see you get out of this one."

Hunter gave him a steely gaze. "Don't underestimate me." He mopped up the excess ketchup with his steak fries, flipped the meat over, coating the bottom bun with ketchup before turning it over again and placing the seeded bun on top. "Improvisation is key."

Grayson swiped a fry. "Oh yeah. Good coating with the tomato compote."

"Wait. Are you willingly eating potato, the king of starches?"