American Dream

Chap 19- snowstorm but with eggs

It's nice to have internet friends (random but true.)

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Rory's POV

We had everything set up to make pancake batter. I measured out flour first, tipping it into the glass mixing bowl on the counter. Then, I moved the bowl and brushed the flour from my fingertips, accidentally getting it all over Scott's shirt. Apparently one of his favourites.

"Oh, you are so dead," he said, a dangerous glint appearing in his eye.

"Oops?" I giggled. He grabbed a handful of flour and flung it in my direction, getting it all over both me and Mitch, who was stood behind me.

"Oh, you shouldn't've dragged me into this. Bitches going down," Mitch said fiercely, throwing flour at Scott. Scott retaliated, laughing, and it turned into an all-out war, first Mitch and I against Scott and then every man for themselves.

I glanced around the kitchen, having just ducked a handful of flour, and spotted the eggs. A wicked grin crept across my face, and I grabbed one, splitting it over Mitch and making Scott double over with laughter.

"You bitch!" Mitch gasped. I just grinned, cracking another over Scott's head while he was distracted.

"If you weren't dead before, you are now," he said. Suddenly it was them verses me, and I began to regret bringing eggs into the equation.

"Mercy, mercy!" I squealed with laughter, holding my arms above my head as if it would protect me.

"Are you sorry?" Scott asked. I just nodded, considering taking them by surprise, when my phone buzzed.

"Two secs," I said as I ran over and grabbed it, wincing slightly as I stepped in egg.

Kevin:

home safe, about to meet Lucas. Have a nice night. X

To; Kevin:

You too, talk to you later. X

"Kevin's home safe," I said, walking back over to where they had been drawing pictures in the flour on the floor. Suddenly I had an idea. I walked over to Scott, and, standing on tiptoes, whispered in his ear.

"Mitch has been on both our teams, the traitor. Do you think he deserves payback?" Scott smirked, before nodding and grabbing a handful of flour. I did the same, and on the count of three, we threw them at Mitch and effectively restarted the fight.

Mitch's POV

After they had attacked me, and I had surrendered, we surveyed the damage. Every surface was covered in a layer of flour, the floor was covered in scuffs and footprints and all three of us looked like ghosts. The almost empty flour bag lay ripped and on it's side, spilling onto the counter and the egg carton lay upturned on the floor and dusted with flour. It looked like the kitchen had been victim of a mini snowstorm, but with eggs.

We began to clean up. At first it was fun- we sang, gossiped and joked, teasing each other and messing around. Eventually though, we ran out of energy and the room quieted. After almost an hour of cleaning, we looked at each other.

"Oh, this is going to take the longest time," Rory groaned.

She dragged us into the bathroom, instructing us to stand still before disappearing and reappearing with bin bags. We stood on them to dust ourselves off, trying not to make more of a mess. Having done our best to remove most of the flour, we then had to try and wash out the half-dry flour-and-egg mix that coated our hair. Finally, we took (separate) showers before tidying the bathroom.