From: notonyourteam	Date: May 29th, 2011 09:56 pm (UTC)		(Link)

She didn't really know how she had been convinced by Vinnie to come down to the kitchen, she had been caught off guard when the boy had asked her. She had been making her way back to her room from Hunter's to change he clothes finally. It had been over a week and she felt like it was probably a health conscious idea.

She had been hesitant at first, she was still in her full out sulking mode. Vin was one of her good friend though, and Hunter could probably use a break form her moping around her dorm room. She was afraid the blonde might break her Ipod if she sat and listened to it any longer.

So here she was, dressed in actual jeans and a t-shirt and about to help Vinnie cook whatever it was that he was making. She was in no way a cooking person, she knew how to make microwave food and stove top dinners. Nothing too fancy though. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, letting it dangle from her lips.

"Sure thing boss," She drawled in her New York gangster voice. She was trying to act normal, and she loved teasing him with it. "I think I can handle that. But, Uh, what's a sift?"

	From: che_bel_viso	Date: May 29th, 2011 10:18 pm (UTC)		(Link)

Vinnie gave her a dry look. "Hey, I'm all for doing what you want, but uh, you might wanna put that out before we get nabbed for smoking in the kitchen of the dorms, ya know? Also it'll make these things taste like an ash tray."

He did smile at her though, and come over to where the dry ingredients were laid out on the prepping surface. Grabbing what looked like a metallic mug, he held it up to her. "Dis is. It's like a sieve, wit fine mesh at the bottom and a turning wheel to get it all through. You pull the handle like a trigger and BAM! you have sifted flour. Just try to get it all in the bowl, capisce?"

He had never had to explain so much about the whole cooking process before, and found that he did actually like it. Maybe he could become a chef or something whenever he got out of school finally.

As he went back to getting the other ingredients ready, he started in on some light conversation with his friend. "So how have things been, Mack? It feels like I haven't seen ya around in a while."

	From: notonyourteam	Date: May 30th, 2011 12:34 am (UTC)		(Link)

Scowling slightly, Mackenzie put out her cigarette, this cooking thing was already not working out for her. No smoking? She knew there was a reason she had never bothered with learning. That and it wasn't like her mother was ever a kitchen person. Kia would cook once in a while but that was the way her sister was. Obsessively maternal.

"Shit, you're like the incredibly Italian Emeril, you know that?" She said, smirking at him. She had no idea if Emeril was actually Italian or not, but she knew he said BAM a lot. "Alright boss, capische! I think I can handle this." She took the sifter from Vinnie and began to sift flower into the bowl he provided her. It was strangely calming, she felt a lot more relaxed than usual.

"Uh...I've been hiding out in Hunter's room actually," She said quietly, continuing her flour therapy. "Tatum and I...got into a fight about Frankie the other day. I might have broken Frankie's nose."

	From: che_bel_viso	Date: May 30th, 2011 01:00 am (UTC)		(Link)

"I like to think of myself as the skinnier, nicer, prettier Mario Batali." The words came out with a smile as he zested the citrus into separate bowls. "Emeril's too commercial for me, I think."

Moving on to the next step of prep work, he listened as Mack spoke about what she had been up to recently. It was a good thing that he didn't need to really concentrate on what he was doing just yet because her words had him looking up at her with his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"You didn't." It didn't come out as surprised as he would have sounded had he not really known the girl. "Tesoro, you know that not every problem can be solved with your fists, right?" It was said somewhat jokingly. He didn't judge her for her way of doing things. Everyone had their own way of dealing with the things that life threw at them, and who was he to make those decisions for someone else. But at the same time...

"And what on earth is going on that you would do that to Frankie? I know you're Tatum's like, migliore amico but..." He let it trail off there, not really sure what he was asking.

	From: notonyourteam	Date: May 30th, 2011 02:00 am (UTC)		(Link)

She stopped sifting flower for a moment to look at him, "I did." She stated simply, shifting into a more comfortable position. She stared down at the shifted flower in the bowl, thinking.

Things definitely couldn't be solved with her fists all the time, or drinking, or snorting cocaine. She wasn't exactly sure how to solve them otherwise though, and that was really the problem here. It wasn't that she didn't trust Vinnie, he was one of the closer friends she had outside of Tatum and Hunter, but opening up to someone about Tatum was hard. She figured she would try though, Vinnie was pretty smart when it came to girls.

"Well...I might theoretically be in love with Tatum." She began, playing with the sifter nervously. "And I might have a little bit of hatred towards Frankie for obvious reasons. I provoked her a little bit and well she was a right bitch back. So I lost my temper and hit her." She finished, rubbing her nose subconsciously. "Theoretically, of course." She added, eyes snapping back up to examine Vinnie for a reaction.

"Then Tatum got really pissed at me, and I got defensive. Which resulted in her wanting to fight me, which I let her punch me a few times." She continued, not being able to stop the run away train. "I told her I hated Frankie and let her hit me around a bit. She got mad that I wouldn't hit her back, and then told me that...if I hated Frankie that I couldn't have her."

She traced her finger through some flour dust that had settled around the bowl. That was the part of the story she hated telling the most, it just broke her heart every time. "So I told her I only hated Frankie because I was in love with her. And then kissed her." She finished, going back to sifting the flower.