Flower Child (Peter Parker, MCU)

Lila and Ted's Excellent Friday Night

Shotgun - George Ezra

***Disclaimer: Pardon my French. Literally, there's French in here and I am not fluent.

Lila Landry hated few things. She hated intolerance, and saw no point of those who couldn't accept differences between people. She hated ignorance, and people who let intolerance and injustice prosper simply because it didn't affect them personally. She positively loathed big pharma and fossil fuel industries, but that was just the political stance she was raised on. She also dreaded the idea of being surrounded by massive crowds of her peers, which was exactly what her school had planned for Friday afternoon.

Midtown kicked off their homecoming week with an assembly the Friday before, just to get the students hyped for the week of events soon to follow. The week was themed, something Lila personally didn't partake in (especially when the theme was a return to the 1980s), a ton of after school activities, something Lila didn't partake in, and finally, a dance. The only reason Lila knew so much about it was because Liz Allan was head of the homecoming committee, and spent her free time in decathlon going over planning. Lila noticed that it stressed Liz out quite a bit, but she took great measures to keep that to herself. Some kind of leadership trait, Lila figured, although didn't necessarily agree with.

What stressed Lila out was that the thought of sitting in a completely full auditorium where multiple things happened all at once, and she was sandwiched between people she didn't really know on all sides. It made her stomach turn thinking of all the things she had to do before she got home to her dad, and sitting still for an hour and a half was not going to make it any better. So instead, Lila talked to the home economics teacher, Mr. Crayne, who had agreed to let Lila use the kitchen that was his classroom.

So while everyone gathered for the homecoming assembly, Lila entered the home economics classroom with a slip of paper permitting her to be there during the assembly in one hand, a bag full of baking necessities in the other, and flicked on the lights. Setting down the bag and note, Lila pulled out her phone, selected a song off a playlist inspired by her mother (the particular song was by Tears for Fears), and made her way to the sink to wash her hands. Once that was finished, and the groceries were emptied onto the countertops, Lila's body slipped into autopilot, and the baking commenced.

Baking was second nature to her, as well as cooking. She was an expert at it, but that was likely due to the fact that she'd been doing it long before she'd even learned to write. Lila liked to think that it was truthfully just because her mother was a natural, and passed that skill down to her, but she knew that it was because cooking was Mommy-and-Lila time. Ted Landry wasn't allowed near the kitchen on days when they were cooking, not even if he needed a glass of water. The record player was always blaring some classic or another, and the food meant to be prepared was scattered around the countertops. It was these memories that put a smile on Lila's face as she sifted the flour.

When the flour was appropriately measured and placed in the correct bowl, Lila turned her attention to the fruit she had gone out of her way to purchase that morning. There was a stall at the Forest Hills farmers market that Angelina Landry used to take Lila to that she claimed sold the best fresh fruit in New York. It was at that tiny booth that she met Isaac Evans, a man of eighty, who sold the Landrys their best fruit. Now that her mother wasn't there to keep the tradition of buying the fruit with her, Lila always made sure to stop by and check in on the man herself. Only now, she made sure to bring a bright bouquet of whatever was newest and (in her opinion) most beautiful. Isaac always sold her the fruit at a ridiculously discounted rate, so she made sure to return the favor, and catch up with him and Mrs. Evans if she was there.

Soon, the smell of citrus overwhelmed her, and Lila's fingertips had splotches of blue on them as she completed the batter. Whisking furiously until it was at the appropriate consistency, she poured the batter into the two bread tins she'd brought along with her. Sliding both of the tins into the oven, Lila set a timer, and hastily cleaned up her workspace. She had roughly forty-five minutes before she needed to prepare the icing that went along with the recipe, and she figured she'd better finish her homework in the meantime.