Mambo Italiano

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

((Nathan Choultard continued from Walking Amongst Ghosts))

Nathan was able to quickly take a rinse and go shower in the locker room before preparing to go to the home economics room. He was able to change into his workout gear and make some attempt to actually dry his mop of hair, an attempt that was passable at best, but it didn't concern him too much, he'd have to tie it back anyways as there was no way he would wear one of Mrs. Klieber's hair nets.

Nathan was always happy when it was lab day in his home-ec class. It was a wonderful way to relieve himself after a hard workout and take some of the weight off of his shoulders for a little while. Especially since the weight was happy to know this was a healthy living class, something that could provide nutrition which was what future star athletes needed to compete.

When he arrived, he was welcomed by the bland cream walls, occasionally broken up by nutritional guides and safety posters. He could see the reflection of the florescent lights in the cheap glossy linoleum floor. A quick glance at the clock told him he was a couple minutes early, so he took his seat and pulled out the handwritten recipe for Spaghetti and Meat Sauce with Garlic Bread that Mrs.Klieber made them fill out yesterday, pouring over it while he waited for his classmates to arrive.

[blastinus]

(George Leidman start thread)

Considering his expertise at preparing food, George had to wonder why it was that Home Economics was mandatory for him. He would have thought at this point that the teacher would have had the sense to not let him anywhere near something with a stove on it. Not that he was dangerous at cooking. It's just that everything he made came out bland and tasteless.

A lot of the stuff he learned about nutritional cooking didn't even make sense for him anyway. If spaghetti stuck to a wall, why would you want to retrieve it and serve it to somebody? And calories sounded like some sort of gum disease. Obviously, there had to be some sort of trick to the whole preparing of food thing.

It's magic. That's what it is. Pure black magic of the unholiest sort. Nobody should be expected to do this crap if they don't have the gift.

These morbid thoughts ran through George's head as he schlepped into the classroom, and found that he was second to arrive. Curious, that sort of thing usually didn't happen. He recognized the guy though: Nathan Choultard, who usually was considerably better in this class. "Hey Nathan," he said, and found himself a place to sit. Knowing him, he'd probably be able to make the...the...

With a sudden feeling of panic, George realized that he had blanked out on what today's project would be. "Hey, uh..." he asked Nathan, "do you know what we were supposed to make today? I forgot to write it down." He laughed a little nervously. This was going to be a FUN day.

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

Nathan watched as George came through the classroom doors and was unsurprised when George requested the recipes for today. It was a sad situation that he was often paired up with him. He was a likable guy, but he was hopeless when it came to cooking class.

However, this was the case today and there was no use complaining about it.

"It's Spaghetti and Meat Sauce today," Nathan said, passing the recipes over to him, "And Garlic Bread too."

In his head Nathan was already planning what he could get George to do that wouldn't consist of him screwing it up too badly. He figured that the spaghetti proper wouldn't be too hard. It mainly consisted of him putting the pasta in the pot, stirring it and then making sure it was al dente. How hard could that actually be?

[blastinus]

"Spaghetti, meat sauce, and garlic bread? That's it? Now I just feel stupid." Copying down the recipes onto a spare piece of notebook paper, George passed Nathan's sheet back to him and leaned against one of the cooking units, glancing behind him first to make sure that it wasn't on. He'd made that particular mistake enough times to make him leery of ever backing up into a stovetop again. "Where's everyone else anyway?" he asked mostly to himself. Not that he was especially eager for class to start, but it would be less awkward if he could chat with somebody while there was noise to drown it out.

Before he could even finish that thought, some more students had begun filing in, followed soon after by the Home Economics teacher, Mrs. Klieber. She was mostly kind to her students, always willing to give small tips on how to improve your dishes. All she demanded in return was that her students do their assignments correctly and not make too much of a mess in doing so. Not too much to ask for most. Heck, even George could do that last part. His only problem was the execution of step one. But today would be different. He could do today's recipes. All he needed to do was concentrate and-he looked down at his recipes-figure out exactly what the difference was between thin spaghetti and normal kind.

[D/N]

(Carly Jean Dooley continued from The Deconstructionist)

SCREW YOU, FOOD. Carly liked Mrs. Kleiber's Home Ec about as much as she liked the rest of her classes, which was in a very limited amount. And now they were wasting their time by learning how to boil pasta. Helllooooo, just go to the store and buy the premade stuff, then dump it in a pot! The whole class was useless, because you didn't make anything less than a B unless you set the lab on fire or something like that. Well OK, it gave her a guaranteed B at least so it wasn't THAT useless, but still. And then they had all this stuff on nutrition and one of those JERKY-BITCHY girls actually tried to make a fat joke about her! Well excuse her for actually having a figure, stick-bitch!

Ugh, god she was totally cracking up here. After the.... incident with Sebastien's painting she was totally expecting the PA to blare or someone to come to the class and send her down to the VP's office. Oh god, they wouldn't suspend her for that or anything, would they? They couldn't do that! No, and they wouldn't, because they couldn't EVER prove that she'd done it! Sebastien was just such a FUCKING JERK, he had to have enemies all over the school who would do something like that, and it could have been any one of them, so ha!

She still had HUGE problems though. Prom problems. She couldn't, COULD NOT walk into there without an awesome date! She needed.... she needed.... okay let's forget about awesome dates and look for dates that at least won't be totally embarassing....

Carly's eyes focused as her vision zoomed into two guys at one side of the room.

Nathan.

Tall, cute enough, bitchin' hair. Nice clothes. He was an athelte too; he ran or something. He was kinda boring though, a bit of a loner. UGH, maybe he was like Sebastien underneath. But she couldn't think THAT, no he wasn't an asshole like that.

And George.

Also tall, athlete, good eyes, oooh and she'd seen him at the pool once before, he had awesome pecs. Popular guy but not some JERK jock or anything. Ugly clothes and his hair wasn't as nice as Nathan's. And George was, like, an old man name or something.

She considered the situation, and then grinned a trifle too widely. There was really no denying it. No sir. Either one of them were perfectly acceptable catches for a gal like her.

Moving quickly, she crossed over to the unit there were both at.

"Hey guys! Uh............."

Wait, what was she going to say here?

"Uh, do either of you guys know..." she stammered, then quickly glanced at the recipe for today. "Uh, what al dente means? Like, how you make sure the spaghetti is cooked like that, I mean you hear it all the time but they don't actually say what it means."

Well, she could have had a smoother opening than THAT. But it could've been worse. She guessed.

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

Nathan shook his head as he took his recipe. He was sure of it now, George on spaghetti duty was the right course of action for the cooking lab today. He would do the meat sauce and...

"Hey guys! Uh............."

He turned his head and saw his other lab partner for the day; Carly Jean Dooley. She wasn't exactly the best when it came to cooking either. A very bad group for him, cooking wise, but sadly, there wasn't much he could do. She would be on garlic bread, if possible.

Still, Carly wasn't exactly bad to have around, as far as looks were concerned. She had a little meat on her bones, but it seemed to work well for her. If he wasn't training so hard all the time, Nathan figured that he would have paid a little more attention to her, or other girls for that matter. Training came first though, a fact that Nathan found as a bitter joke.

"Al dente? Yeah Al dente is when you have that perfect firmness for your noodles. It's fairly simple to test it too."

He dug into his bag and fished out a hair scrunch and tied his hair back so that it wouldn't fall into the sauce.

"For me, I just dig a pasta spoon into the pot and take a strand of noodle and whip against the wall."

Nathan shrugged grabbing his recipe from off the table, "Then it's ready."

[blastinus]

"Whipping it against a wall, eh? Heh, only you'd think of that," said George as he measured out the number of noodles they'd need, proportional to the amount of sauce. One thing he had learned about spaghetti was that if you had too many noodles, the sauce wouldn't be nearly as good when it got added. Last time, he'd decided to throw in the whole package, and took the noodles out before they were nicely softened, or as Nathan would call it, "al dente." Not that George would ever use a phrase that sounded so pretentious.

I guess all smart people have to show how smart they are by spouting foreign words. Weirdos.

As George made ready to dump the noodles into the pot of water, he had a feeling that he'd forgotten something. Then he noticed the dial on the stove, and it became immensely clear: he had neglected to actually turn it on. Looking around to make sure that nobody saw that, he carefully twiddled the knob over to the proper heat setting, and went back to pretending to portion out the noodles. He made no bets that his two partners genuinely missed that mistake, but it was always worth a shot.

"So," he said, trying to distract from the pot of water, "you guys ready for the prom? It's coming up, and it'd be a bad idea to miss it. Because...you know...heh..."

I'm in trouble.

[D/N]

(Urgz. Sorry sorry sorry for the wait)

Nathan was talking about throwing spaghetti at the wall, which was kind of WEIRD, to be honest. Carly hoped he wasn't some crazy cooking guy like Sebastien was some crazy painter guy or anything like that.

But he was being totally nice about it, and George apparently thought it was OK, so it was all good. And it did make a bit of sense when she thought about it. Maybe that was why that one chef on TV was always throwing food against the wall.

"Ahh. Wow, that's sort of like how the chefs on TV do it and everything, isn't it? Uhhh, neat."

Awkward silence.

Great Carly. Now how the hell are you supposed to turn THAT into the important stuff in this class, namely getting your prom date?

OK, just move on. She had all class, and impressing them with some great cooking skills ought to make them want her. Nathan and George were already on the sauce and spaghetti, so she guessed that left the garlic bread for her.

"I'll get the butter!"

Ugh. She really didn't want to have to mash up the garlic, it would just make her fingers REEK. Maybe she could just toss the bulbs in and they'd melt when they cooked or something? No, no, she had to sacrifice this time.

Then, as she was spooning butter in the bowl, George turned around from whatever he was doing with the stove and YES YES YES started bringing up the prom! Well, that was step one out of the way, you rule George. Of course, now SHE had to just drop a hint or two, but she couldn't just say she had no date because they might think she was desperate, even though she obviously WAS desperate but no damn way she was ever going to show that.

"Oh gawd. Uhh, I WAS totally ready, but it was the worst timing and my date had to CANCEL at the last minute, can you believe it? I mean, I definitely want to go though, how 'bout you?

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

A thin smile crept up Nathan's lips. The fact that such a simple tip came across as a hidden well of secret information amused him. It wasn't really any TV chef telling them how to do it, it wasn't even a book. It was just watching his parents do something like that when he was younger.

He watched carefully as he put the lean hamburger meat in the frying pan and moved it around watching as the red juicy beef began to brown slowly. Once it began to brown, he got a tiny bowl and began to drain all the fat from the pan into the bowl. Fat just made the meat too unhealthy for someone like him who needed to try and keep fit, so he made sure he drained practically all of it.

Nathan had caught sight of George and his little mishap, but said nothing. If he had put the noodles in before boiling the water he would have probably said something about it. However, it was an honest mistake and he could count a few times in which he, himself had forgotten to turn on an element.

Nathan's ears perked up at the mention of prom. He wasn't sure if he was even going to go, his parents would probably have had a fit because he would be partying instead of preparing applications for track scholarships so that he could get into a good college. Still, he was very heavily considering going, whether he was going to have a date or not, he felt that he had deserved it after all.

He grabbed the can of crushed tomatoes, took a can opener to cut the top off and then poured it into the sauce.

"Well I dunno, I don't have a date or anything but I figure I'm going to go anyways. I mean I could always go STAG if it doesn't pan out, I dunno."

He then took the can of sliced tomatoes and removed the top of the can and then put that in, stirring the sauce as he went.

"Oh that's gotta suck Carly," he said, still looking down at his meat sauce, "So what are you going to do about it then?"

[blastinus]

George might have been a little absent-minded, but he wasn't an idiot. Carly's mention of having no date had the unmistakable air of somebody asking a question with a statement. Of course, that prompted the inescapable question: what was he going to do about it?

If I outright ask her out, it'll sound like I'm jumping at the first chance I get. But at the same time, will I ever get a better girl?

To be honest though, of all the ladies he could have asked to the prom, Carly wasn't that bad a choice. She was smart (-ish), spunky, and not too bad on the eyes (George had to quickly shake his head to clear his mind of that last image). Compared to some of the more artificial-seeming girls who lurked in the corners of the campus, she seemed a whole lot more real to him somehow. It helped that he'd had a chance to get to know her a little, thanks to this otherwise abominable home economics class.

The more rapid bubbling of the pot brought George back to reality, and as he threw in the noodles and began stirring them around so as to prevent them from sticking, he asked, "Would you like to go to the prom, Carly?" He immediately regretted saying it, especially so soon after Nathan stated his prom plans. It just kind of came out before the hasty boy could catch it or reword it.

As the words hung in the air, George quickly added, "Uh, I mean, well....I haven't asked anybody, and I thought that...well...I'm sorry. That was probably a bit sudden."

Well, you dug your grave. Do they pile on the dirt or dig you out?

[D/N]

"Would you like to go to the prom, Carly?"

Carly would have probably sliced her finger off had she been using something other than a butter knife to spread the garlic butter. As it was, the blade merely bounced off her finger and clattered to the ground. Grabbing at it, Carly felt her heart going a million miles a minute, because he was totally ASKING HER STRAIGHT OUT and it had all worked out better than she could have dreamed it. But she had to play it cool, she didn't want to seem like she was completely desperate here.

Of course, her reaction had already hurt that possibility. She was too busy being awesome to curse herself out for her clumsiness right now, though.

Bending back upwards with the knife in hand, Carly laughed a in an awkward fashion. "UH, YEAH, a bit sudden."

George was actually seeming a bit sheepish about the whole thing. Wait, this wasn't some kind of, like, evil joke or something, was it? No, no, NO NO NO what was she even thinking about, George was awesome and he wouldn't do something like that, and he was pretty darn good looking even if his name was George. HER name was, uigh, Carly Jean after all.

"But I... sure! Yeah George, I'd definitely go to the prom with you, I mean I totally thought you'd have a date already but that's" SHUT UP AND STOP BABBLING "great, uh, it's a date."

She was still holding the knife. "So uh, yeah I'll just clean this off and let's get back to cooking!"

The details could all be worked out later. For now, it was enough to say that Carly Jean HAD her awesome prom date, and she was going to show EVERYONE just who she was. Take THAT, Sebastien.

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

Nathan began to slice some of the mushrooms that was supposed to accompany the lean beef and tomato sauce that was sitting in his frying pan. His thoughts lingered on prom. The more he thought it, the more he liked the idea about going to it. If anything, it was a different way to "rebel" against the work more, play less attitude by his mom and dad.

He finished slicing his mushrooms up and placed them in the sauce. Placing his knife on his cutting board, Nathan quickly grabbed the garlic, onion and some of the black pepper, basil and oregano that were in the small spice containers so that he could put on the finishing touches to his sauce.

Nathan couldn't really deny it, Carly Jean was kinda cute. The fact that she was conveniently out of a date and openly discussing it seemed to line it all up for him. He could easily just pop the question casually and just have whatever happen happen. There really wasn't a major attraction, but he was sure he could have some fun at the dance if he had a date. In fact, asking her the question seemed like a great idea. He figured that once class was over he could just ask her out after-

"Would you like to go to the prom, Carly?"

Nathan stood dumb for a moment, gazing at the various grains etched into his cutting board. He shook his head after he heard Carly said yes and laughed.

Well there goes that plan...

To keep his mind occupied out of the crushing failure that was the attempt that never happened. He quickly diced both the onion and the garlic and put them in his sauce. He was still going to go, this much he knew. It was just going to be handed to him on a silver platter. A fact that he wasn't completely keen on at this moment, but he would have to wait to contemplate on it later as his sauce would burn if he didn't keep watch on it.

"Hey uh guys," he said, trying his hardest not to be the elephant in the room, "Sauce is almost ready..."

[Super Llama†]

[[continued from The Deconstructionist]]

((The following is approved by D/N))

Sebastian strode down the hall, the unexpected amount of time it was taking to find who he was looking for allowing him to cool down a bit. Enough to realize that this rage-fit was just stupid. Why the hell should he stoop that low, and all to get back at some annoying bitch. Sure, that annoying bitch wrecked his painting, but he was surely better than tha-

"Yeah George, I'd definitely go to the prom with you."

THERE IT WAS

As soon as he heard that voice, any appeals to logic and reason went right back out the window. Now was not the time for reason. Now was the time for punching a bitch.

And so he did. Storming right into the room, it only took him a brief moment to lock onto Carly. Anyone else in the room would only have a moment to react to his sudden presence, and more than likely wouldn't even expect the following moment when he threw a right hook right at Carly's face.

[D/N]

(breaking post order with Blast's permission, what with the punching and all)

And as always, everything had worked out great for Carly Jean Dooley. Wait, no. That didn't always happen, it almost never happened! Why the heck had she been so worried about prom that she had to ask out stupid Sebastien anyways? Duh. It ALL worked out.She had a date for the prom, and it had been so EASY, and she hadn't even had to ask him out! He'd asked HER! She was AWESOME.

Carly smiled as Nathan, the guy who wasn't really important anymore, saved the awkward post-acceptance moment (but she thanked him for that), by mentioning the sauce. Well, who really cared about this stupid meal anymore, but she just needed to finish the garlic bread and then she and George could make PLANS! PROM PLANS.

Everything was going so great that Carly didn't even take notice of some sort of stupid commotion behind her until someone's hand grabbed her shoulder and jerked her around--

OHGODOHGODOHGODITSSEBA-

and she didn't have time to make any noise beyond some strangled squeak that sounded like a crushed chipmunk, or any movement beyond involitarily flinching her head backwards, before the punch hit. Carly's flinch had saved her from a direct hit, but Sebastien's fist still bounced off the side of her face, mashing her upper lip against her teeth and driving her backwards.

As she stumbled back the tears came instantly, to no one's surprise. Then Carly's voice caught up with the rest of her body and the sounds of hurt and pain accompianied them.

So much for everything going great.

[blastinus]

The instant Nathan's voice took on the tone it did, George realized the damage he had inflicted. Not that he needed audio cues to see that he had made a mistake, but it certainly drove the last iron spike into the coffin for him. What he had done had affected the friendship he had between Carly and Nathan, and he couldn't take back something like that without hurting Carly and possibly offending Nathan even further.

Sometimes, it just sucks to be me.

Deciding to play along with what he knew to be a false reminder, George turned back to the noodles and began stirring them up. And so it was that when Sebastian burst in, the aspiring prom date had his back to the scene, and he only had gotten himself turned properly towards the event when the angry man had already strode up to Carly and struck her in the face.

George barely had enough attention paid to his surroundings to throw his stirring ladle onto an unlit stove top. All he mainly was thinking about was that someone had just punched Carly, his friend and potential prom date, and that she was staggering backwards in his direction. His body was already in motion barely after he had realized that this was what had happened, and his first inclination was to get between Carly and the man attacking her. Nothing else mattered in that instant, and even if he had time to think it over, he would have done the same. Prom date or not, Carly was a woman, she was his friend, and there was no way he was going to let someone hit her and just get away with it.

"Carly!" George called, stopping beside her and examining where Sebastian had hit her. Fortunately, she had managed to lurch back before the blow had connected, so it had only grazed her. Sure, it would probably leave bruising, but she could have had her teeth knocked out of alignment or her mouth could have been left bleeding. "Alright, alright, you're gonna be fine," he said in a panicked tone, more to himself than to Carly. Then he turned towards the man who caused the calamity, with a blazing fury in his eyes.

"Are you insane?!" George yelled at Sebastian, standing in front of Carly and trying to push him away. "You just punched a girl! How could you do something like that?" George wasn't the type who indulged in fighting, so if it came down to blows, he probably would be at a disadvantage, but right now, he didn't care. All he wanted was to make absolutely sure that Sebastian couldn't get at Carly, by any means necessary.

Nobody hurts one of my friends. EVER!

-------------------------------

After the fighting had cleared up, George left the class with a very unenthusiastic farewell. He'd have a lot to think about for the rest of the day, but he had to hurry to his next class now, and he couldn't afford to let the drama simmer in his head, not with exams coming near.

(George Leidman continued in Inspiration)