Certified Superhero (Misfits #2)

10: butterfly self portrait

Making dinner went about as well as I expected it to go. Neither Miguel nor I had any real experience in the kitchen, and we spent most of our time goofing off. I told him about my time in Nova City, but only the stupid parts. He told me about the craziest things that he and Elliot did and all the places they got transferred because of their terrible behavior.

"What got into you?" I asked while we waited for the oven to preheat. "Back at the academy, I was the only rule breaker. The rest of you were good two shoes."

He held up his hands. Believe me, I still am, it said. "Elliot has more rebellious teenager in him than we thought."

The oven beeped and I put in the box cake mix we had prepared. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to look this lumpy, but we tried our best.

"What I'm hearing is that our hands are going to be full?"

"Hopefully with three adults to keep him in line we won't get chased out of Nova City."

I thought back to my nights on patrol--arguing with cops, ice rope walking between buildings, dropping snowballs off roofs onto passers-by. Maybe an adult wasn't the best way to describe me, but I had at least managed to avoid being run out of town. That was more than Miguel and Elliot could say.

By the time Elliot and Diana finally got back from their classes, the entire suite was a mess. And I'm not just talking about the kitchenette. There were dirty dishes on the coffee table because we ran out of counter room. A cracked egg was oozing on the floor. Diana was going to kill us.

I hid behind Miguel when the lock clicked open and she walked in with Elliot following her. "I should have known better than to give you free rein of the kitchen, Anna."

"This was not all my fault! Miguel dropped the egg."

The stinker in question pulled out the biggest, most innocent puppy eyes I had ever seen. Elliot rolled his eyes, clearly immune to the effects, but Diana was helpless. She had a thing or two to learn about living with the boys.

I shoved my way in front of Miguel. "Do not take his side."

"I will take the side of whoever has food for me." She plopped down on the couch and her backpack thudded against the floor. "School sucks," she groaned.

Elliot laid his backpack carefully on the ground and sat on the other side of the couch. "I don't think it was that bad."

"That's because you're a nerd!" I yelled from the kitchen.

Elliot and Diana attempted to straighten the sitting area so we had a place to eat. I didn't mind the mess. It reminded me of my apartment back at Paramount Lake. I was roommates with my best friend who later tried to burn me alive--no hard feelings though--and the two of us were notoriously messy. We had the beginning stages of a hoarding problem before graduation.

I carried out a stack of french toast with one hand and four cups of orange juice on a tray in the other. My waitressing skills were really starting to pay off. Except for the second where I almost tripped over a broken egg that had found its way to the living room floor (A byproduct of mine and Miguel's mini food fight probably). The orange juice sloshed out of the glasses a little, but nothing fell before I could set the plates carefully on the coffee table. Miguel returned with dinner plates and silverware.

I spread my arms out over the glorious meal we had prepared. Some of the french toast pieces were burnt and a few completely charred slices were hidden at the bottom of the trash can, but we had treated ourselves to high quality maple syrup by my advice. The sweetness would cover up any mistakes in the cooking. "Bon appetit!"