8

It was payday for both Karmen and Elise, and money animated apartment 2B like winds in the sails of a three-masted ship. It was mostly Elise's payment plus two weeks pay from Karmen, but it meant the end of $9.50 per person per week, and it seemed like a fortune.

Since the cash was enormous, I didn't feel bad about spending two hours filling my basket with exactly the right foods according to the Cooking for Dummies, which I bought, too. In fact, by the time I got all that stuff home, I realized I had missed another day of job hunting. Well, that could wait until tomorrow.

I wanted to make a nice dinner for my best friends, seeing that they had been doing all the work. I figured I'd make some hamburgers. Then I settled on roast chicken for dinner. The cookbook said, 'Nuke the chicken in the microwave and forget about it for two hours'. That left me time to make soup. I couldn't wait to see the look on Elise's and Karmen's face when they got home to find a meal fit for a queen waiting for them.

I was slicing onions, and weeping deliciously into a paper towel, when the doorbell rang. I looked into the peephole to see the last person on earth I wanted to see -Clarice Kingsley.

She was smiling with all her thirty-two teeth at me when I opened the door.

"They're both out," I said. Elise was at the studio, and Karmen was scrubbing a greasy fry pan.

Undaunted, she pushed past me into the apartment and set her butt on the kitchen counter.

"That's a really cool apartment," she said, looking around. "What's this big mess?"

"Sorry," I said and went to tidy up. Here I was, apologizing for preparing dinner in such a ridiculously unexpected location as the kitchen. I stopped and wheeled around to the blonde model.

"What are you doing here?" I said.

"I got a break from shooting a block away from here and decided to drop by," she said with a shrug.

"Well, you heard me, they're not here at the moment," I said.

"What are you making?" she sniffed the air.

"Oh damn it, my chicken!" I went over to the oven and turned it off. There was a bit of smoke, but luckily, the chicken wasn't burned into a lump of coal yet. The popcorn incident still left a bad impression for our landlady, another chicken mishap would be the last straw.

Clarice watched me getting the roast chicken out. She followed me since the bird smelled great. The new pot of soup simmered on the stove, the burgers and salad were crisp and fresh.

"This looks so great," she said.

That's when the phone rang. It was Karmen. "I'm going to be late tonight, Azra, I got a waiting job at this super fancy club. Who knows, someone might discover me there, besides there are hot babes everywhere, so don't wait for me."

"What? But I cooked us a great dinner!" I said. A giggle came through the receiver.

"Sorry, wifey, but see you later," she said and already hung up. And it wasn't thirty seconds later that the phone rang again. Elise said she wasn't going to be home tonight.

"Get your butt over here," I said. "Wait till you see what I've made for dinner."

"I'm at Machu Pichu," said Elise.

"What?" I said. "I've been slaving over a hot stove all day! And guess who's here in our kitchen right now?"

"Sorry. Gotta go. I'll see you on Thursday."

I was crushed. Who's going to eat my dinner? I staggered back into the kitchen and stared at all that food, simmering, stewing, and cooling, and neatly placed at the table, which even looked romantic.

Then there was Clarice.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"They can't make home tonight," I said. "And now I'm left with too much food and no one..."

Clarice wasn't listening, she was drooling over my roast chicken.

"Hey, you wanna stay for dinner?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"I'd love to!" she said and took a seat. I sat down in front of her. In an alternative universe, I would be over the moon by now having a romantic dinner with the Elven Princess, but this universe, I was trying to remind myself that she already had two girlfriends.

"You're a great cook," she said while she was eating. "I didn't know that."

Why would you care to know? I wanted to say.

"Thanks," I said. "So how did the cooking show go?"

"Oh, it was a disaster! I was so embarrassed, but it wasn't live, so they cut off the bad parts," she said. "Everyone was so sweet about it."

"Yeah, with that looks, you could get away with anything," I said and muttered under my breath, "even dating two girls at the same time."

"Pardon?" Clarice looked up from her chicken breast.

"Nothing!" I said. "Anyway, do you like your job?"

"It's alright," she said. "It's fun and exciting at first then you'll get used to it. It's just like anything else."

Like dating two people, right? I just wanted to say, but didn't.

"So who do you like the most?"

"Who?" she asked blankly.

"You know who," I said. "Karmen or Elise?"

"Oh," she said and dabbed her glossy lips with a napkin. "I haven't thought about that."

"What?" I said. "You've been going out with them for weeks!"

She shrugged. "They're sweet."

"Yeah, and they are my best friends," I said, and I made sure to empathize the word to let her know that she couldn't keep messing with their heads, or mine. Yes, I was that kind of girl who got jealous even if we weren't together.

"So what do you do now?" she asked instead. I blinked back.

"Well, I don't do anything, except...chores," I said. "I'm still looking for a job."

"Why don't you work as a freelance model?" she said. "You've got that tumblr girl looks."

"I do?" I blushed. My heart swelled to the size of a truck. Did Clarice Kingsley just compliment me?

Clarice didn't say anything and just went back to eating. She ate more than Karmen and Elise could have eaten together, even if they'd both come home famished.

"That was a fantastic meal!" she said. "Thank you, Azra."

"You're welcome," I said. "Help me with the dishes later?"

"Sure thing," she said, but then her phone flashed. She went to answer it. After a few minutes, she came back and told me that her agent needed to see her for a new gig tomorrow. And faster than I could say 'never mind', she was gone.

I washed up all by myself, but I figured that the best and the worst part about the evening was - Clarice.

~*~

Celie would never again be able to say I wasn't looking for work. I had an interview for a freelance gig from an online fashion. They needed to hire a model for their new clothing line. I could just feel that today was my day. The woman on the phone sounded really interested in working with me.

I put on my coolest outfits and was giving myself a last once-over in the mirror when there was a knock at the door. I opened it up to reveal the Elven Princess again. This time, she was carrying two large shopping bags.

"What are you...?"

Again, undaunted, she pushed past me into the apartment and set the bags down on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, Azra, I knew you would be home!" she greeted me. Of course, I would, like I had no important things to do.

"What do you want?"

"Please, if I don't have a casserole by lunch, I'm finished!" she said. "This spokesperson from Versace saw my clip on the cooking show and said she would love to taste my dish. And I kinda want to impress her."

"So make one," I said indifferently.

Her warped mind interpreted this as my offer to help. She began to unpack the bags. "Thanks! I knew I could count on you! Now, I bought all the ingredients, at least, I think I did."

"Wait a minute," I said. "You'll have to do it at home. I've got an interview."

"Oh," she breathed then looked at me from head to toes. "You look lovely, but I picked the fastest casserole. Mexican Taco. It'll only take two seconds!"

I didn't think she knew how long it would take to make a casserole. I looked at my watch. Fortunately, I'd left plenty of time to get to my interview. If this was really a fast dish, I could oblige this pain in the butt, also because she had commented nicely on my appearance.

I joined her in the unpacking.

"I don't see why you don't ask Karmen or Elise to do this," I muttered sarcastically. She didn't get the point.

"Oh, can they cook?"

"As far as I remember, no," I said.

Clarice's participation in this makeshift casserole consisted of looking over my shoulder while I chopped, stirred, and improvised. Not that I was such a great cook. But at least, I could follow a few simple instructions. When it came to home ec, Clarice had a five-second attention span. She'd be watching me one moment, staring at her phone the next, and before long the TV would be on while she was leafing through Elle magazine.

Finally, the casserole was in the oven. I told Clarice I had to go down to see if Celie could let me borrow some corn chips to decorate the top, and I told her to get the casserole out after 3-4 minutes. It was going to take a mad sprint to get to my interview on time, but I felt like I would make it. When I came back with a bag of corn chips, which I had to reassure Celie that I would pay her back, Clarice was nowhere in sight.

"The casserole!" I cried and went to take it out of the oven. It was all burned at the top. I heard Clarice stepping out of the bathroom.

"Oh no!" she put her hand over her mouth. "I was just gone for two minutes."

"Well, that's enough to screw this," I said.

"What are we going to do?" she said.

"Look, I don't have time," I said. "I have to go."

But her distress halted my feet from running for the door. Her emerald eyes glistened and her lips pouted. I felt like I would be a cruel person if I refused such a face.

"Alright," I signed. "Wash the dish. We'll start over."

"Oh, you're wonderful!" Clarice breathed.

"Yeah, yeah, tell me about it," I muttered.

By the time, I shipped Clarice Kingsley and her casserole off on her way, an hour had come and gone, along with my interview. I phoned to reschedule, but I was told that the gig was already taken.