Dreamjumper

Chapter Two

                 

"How do you hold this thing again?" Lance asked. He was holding a can opener upside down on a soup can, giving me a quizzical look.

  I smiled and took it from his hands, placing it on the correct side. I gave it back to him, shaking my head. "There. That's how you open it," I said, nudging his side. "How many times have I said that again?"

He rolled his eyes. "I already knew how to do it. I'm the Master Chef here. It's just been a long day."

  He ripped open a plastic Ziploc bag full of broccoli, and tossed the vegetables delicately into the streamer over the pot. He had a smug look on his face, his eyes closed and his mouth turned up into a knowing smile.

  He then opened one eye and looked at me, asking, "How many minutes do I put this on the stove again?"

  "Four or five, Master Chef," I smirked, cranking the dial up to medium heat.

  "See, what did I tell you? I am the boss of this kitchen!" Lance waved his wooden spoon in the air.

  Lance was over with his parents for our weekly Tuesday dinner; us two always made the food while our parents caught up with one another. After all, they made dinner for us every other night of the week. That and Lance and I made the most delicious cookies. Every Tuesday I also finished karate class before the Kinneys came over, so it was a pretty awesome day in general for me.

  I was still in my karate uniform, my green belt tied around my loose white karategi. My hair was still pulled back in my signature ponytail, but even messier (if possible) due to the constant action in class. Lance often called me the "Kitchen Ninja", even though I had explained to him countless times that ninjas didn't practice karate.

  "So, how was your class?" Lance asked, as he pulled open the oven door to check the lasagna.

  "It was great. I had a lot of fun," I replied. Not that anyone expected any different; a lot of people my age took it, and I got along well with them. I was a little behind everyone else, who had been taking karate for quite a while. Everyone else was up to a blue belt, and I was a green. The order was a little confusing, but now that I knew it I was able to look forward to a new belt.

  I wished that I could say that I didn't care about advancing and being the best, but I did care. I wanted to know everything there was to know about karate and feel that pride when I reached the final color of belt. I was kind of competitive when it came to things I was passionate about; it was both a good and bad quality. I never got as bad as Kim, though – she would fight tooth and nail to be the primadonna, given the chance.

  "It must have been more than alright. You probably kicked everyone's butts!" Lance made a "hiyah" noise and poked me in the side with a spoon. I grinned and grabbed another off the counter, quickly defending another jab. "But little do you know, I'm much better than anyone at the studio."

  He tried to take another poke, but our spoons clashed together. "In fact, I'm beyond black belt level."

  "In what, your RPG?" I shot back, and his hand fluttered to his heart as if I had deeply offended him.

  "Excuse you! I make expert kills. I'm the defender of virtual humanity," he replied.

  As he was talking, I took the opportunity to strike. At the last minute he tried to bat it away, but I had already jabbed him in the side. He closed his light blue eyes for a few seconds behind his glasses and opened them slowly.

  "You're better than I thought. I'll let you go with a warning, young whippersnapper."

  I tried to dodge another prod, but he managed to tag me with the utensil. I stifled a laugh, and he gave me a fake glare.