Crashing to Fall (Student/Teacher) (ON HOLD)

Chapter 12: Food Fight

So, camping ended earlier than I thought, so I am going to be uploading the next part of the date! Eeek! So excited :D

After Stephen disappeared into the kitchen, I breathed and leaned back against the couch. The clanking of plates sang out through the apartment, and I heard the scraping of a knife on...what was that?

Before I could think it through enough, Stephen stepped from the kitchen with a plate of toast in his hands. I widened my eyes, awed by his adorable gesture. He sheepishly came over and sat beside me, handing me the plate. "I remembered you liked it this way, so I thought I'd make you some toast. I'm usually a better food-maker, but the only think I absolutely knew you liked was the toast, so..." He trailed off.

I took a nibble at the buttered surface, moaning at the satisfying crunch it made. "This is perfect; you have no idea." I took a much larger bite now, filling my entire mouth. He laughed at the sight, and I glared at him lightheartedly.

He let me chew my mouthful before asking, "So...what would you like for dinner?"

I swallowed. "Name some of the stuff you can make; I'll choose from your list of accomplishments so I don't make some difficult request." I smirked as I took another bite.

"Alright, I can make most any pasta, I can make a quiche, although that would take time, I can make a couple different soups, a chicken pot pie, and I make a mean batch of strawberry pancakes. Not to brag, of course." He gave me a smug look.

"Then strawberry pancakes it is!" I cheered. Setting my plate on the even messier coffee table, I turned and said, "Could I maybe help? Pancakes shouldn't be too messy; I make them all the time at home."

He nodded. "Oh, yeah, of course! It'll be even better making them with you! Really, now I'm even more excited."

I giggled. "Well, that makes two of us." I stood and shoved the last bite of one of the slices of toast into my mouth. "You ready?" I said, my voice muffled through the mass of grains and butter in my mouth.

He nodded and jumped up. "You betcha." He immediately strode into the kitchen and started grabbing the milk and eggs. But before I could ask where the mix was, he started grabbing flour and not prepared-mix things.

"Um, where's the Bisquik?" I said cluelessly.

He stared at me with wide eyes. "You use Bisquik? Oh, Leslie, I'm so, so, so sorry for you. Haven't you ever had or made pancakes from scratch? They aren't difficult, and they're usually better..."

He continued to reach behind him, open the fridge, and grab the strawberries from the bottom shelf, all while keeping his sorrowful eyes on me. I scoffed. "Well, no. I'm not exactly growing up in a household where people eat my pancakes and suggest I try out making them homemade. It just never occured to me."

"Well, now you can understand what my fuss is all about. Homemade is the way to go, with most things. Including pancakes. Here." He handed me a bowl and a measuring cup. "Put 2 cups of flour in there."

I grudgingly grabbed the cup from his hand, grumbling slightly at his undermining of the Bisquik queen. Then, as I dipped the cup into the flour, I got an idea. Quietly, I reached into the heavy tin and grabbed a handful of flour, lifting it up and prepping for the onslaught of food about to come my way. Finally, I chucked the handful straight at Stephen's head.

His head moved forward slightly from the impact, but he didn't move for a moment before turning around. "Did you really just--"

I nodded, biting my lip in apprehension.

He made a face, as if saying 'not bad.' But I knew the rest of the expression would say, 'but not as good as this!' Before I could react, he'd reached behind him, grabbed an egg, and smashed it over my head. I opened my mouth in shock, the cold snotty feel of the liquid running down my hair and onto my shoulders. "You're kidding me."