Trigger-Happy Potioneer

Joining the Group

"Hey!"

I'm studying.

"Hey, Nio!"

Not now...

"Nidal!"

I grabbed my phone and turned off the music. "What?" I yelled to no one in particular.

"Open the door! I've got something for you!"

I swung myself out of my chair and ran down the stairs. It was a Saturday morning, and I had almost finished my homework from yesterday. My parents were out of the house, and I didn't have enough friends to hang out with. So I knew exactly who was at my front door.

"What, Nic?" I sighed as I pulled the door open. Nic was standing outside, with a large bag in his left hand. His ruffled blond hair matched pretty well with the white "I ♥ PYTHON" T-shirt. His left leg was still in the brace he'd gotten back when he tore his ACL a few years ago. His blue eyes were bright with excitement. "Ah. Something big, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, real big."

"That's cool." I looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. "Do you want to come in? It's just about lunch time."

"Sure, thanks." He began to come into the house.

"Don't forget, shoes off."

"Right." I wasn't listening. I was looking over him at my other guests.

"Hi, Delia. Meg. Come on in." I slightly bowed in mock respect as they stepped inside as well.

"Respectful as always," Delia quipped. Her stringy blond hair fell to just below her shoulders, framing her light blue eyes and pointed chin. Her favorite blue blouse and blue denim jeans slipped straight past me and into the living room.

"Shoes." I reminded.

"I was wearing flip-flops." She pointed at a pair of gray-blue flip-flops that sat right at the edge of the carpet.

"Fine..." I moved them to the side, away from the living room limits. "I'll start lunch. Any requests?"

"Neopolitan." I glanced at the client.

"Meg, you know my parents never stock spaghetti. Why do you even try?"

Meg pouted. "I could at least hope." Meg's long hair is just as blond and as ruffled as her brother Nic's. Today, she wore a red-and-blue t-shirt with shorts, departing from her usual white-green-and-blue palette. At least she remembers the "shoes" rule. I thought.

"Anything, I just want food." muttered Delia.

"Yes, ma'am, right away," I grumbled as I pulled a few ingredients out of the fridge. I set a pan and a pot of water on the stove and turned on the heat, then turned to the paraphernalia of vegetables and whatever that I found. I first grabbed the penne pasta and poured the 16-oz box right into the pot with a bit of salt. I capped it with the lid and turned to the counter once more.

I chopped two red onions and a green pepper down to thin slices and moved them to the side. Then I grabbed a pack of sausages, cut two out and diced them, then packed the other four away safely. I sprinkled the meat and veggies onto the pan, turned the heat to medium high, and swirled a bit of oil to start the fry.* The rhythmic sizzle of boiling oil and the low rumble of the boiling water almost got me to start singing a song to the beat, but I wasn't about to put on a dinner show. I settled for a bit of humming instead.

After about ten minutes, I scooped the penne out of the pot, drained it, and mixed it in with the vegetable and meat mix. Then, following kitchen safety procedure, I turned the fire under the pot off and left the pot to cool down.