It's a Piece of ShutYourFace (Lucy)

[Dominique Chevalier]

Dominique did not cook, and if he did, he did not cook red velvet cake. He looked at the ingredients spread out over the counter he was to share with... the blonde boy glanced over at his partner, then glanced up and down his partner.

Well that bit was alright, she wasn't hideous. And new.

Small mercies. Hopefully she knew how to make a cake.

"Alright, now if one of each pair wants to come to the front and measure out the flour and sugar, we can all get started!" The teacher looked much to excited by the whole thing. It was just a cake. There were going to be 12 of them at the end of the day.

Everyone was going to get diabetes.

Looking at the girl he was with, Dom gestured towards the front, the teacher, and the ingredients. "Be my guest."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy wouldn't normally ever sign up for a Home Ec class. But when push came to shove, it was a friggin' steal for credit points that her creative essay writing had lost her. Lucy grimaced at the sight of the ingredients. And then again at the sight of her partner. This guy. She knew a bit about him and his douchey brother. She kept herself busy tying up her hair for starters to keep it out of the way.

They had everything they needed, save for flour and sugar. And he wanted her to get it. "Fuck no." She replied, taking a step back and washing her hands at a nearby sink. She touched her hair, so she kinda had to.

When she moved back to his side, she surveyed the situation again and leaned against their counter with the palms of her hands. "You do it." She threw out, reaching over and grabbing an apron before tossing it over at him forcibly. "And put your shit on." Speaking of, she really needed to do that too. "Grab the recipe card too when you get back."

[Dominique Chevalier]

"Are you on your period or something?" Dom asked seriously as he caught the apron thrown at him and pulled it on. She had an accent... South African, maybe? Why did she have to be here, rather than in South Africa then? Why couldn't he have been partnered with one of the nice girls, who thought cooking was a valuable skill?

Hands behind his back as he tied the apron strings, Dominique flicked his head to get his hair out of eyes and sighed. "Twenty bucks if you do it," he said flatly. Would he really rather give money away then take the 3 meter walk to get flour and eggs and the recepie card?

What do you think?

"I need to wash my hands," he added as a reason, and turned the tap on. "Check if they have tampons too, in case you need to stock up."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"That's the logical conclusion when a chick doesn't fall at your feet, right?" Lucy retorted, tying the back of her apron to make sure it was secure. She didn't want that kind of stuff on her shirt or jeans because that would suck. Lucy was just glad he didn't ask her to help him fix his apron. Knowing him, some random girl would have died to be that close. But why? He was a supreme douche.

Lucy sighed begrudgingly. "That's not enough." She said flatly, tilting her head sharply. "Two hundred. C'mon, I know you're good for it." He would basically be paying for her spending money for that stupid MANifesto thing.

"I think you used the last of them to block your nose so the shit just falls out of your mouth." Lucy shot back. After all, he was the kind of guy who was taking a Home Ec class. Probably for the same reason she was, but still. He was also a giant player.

And y'know, a Mo.

[Dominique Chevalier]

"Pretty much," Dom agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes and brushing down the front of his apron to get rid of the creases. He could make this look, if not good, less lame.

And he was wrong, that wasn't a South African accent. She was Australian, only without the friendliness and mild inebriation Dominique usually associated with women from that country. He pulled out his phone to update Carter on his ability to rock an apron, and to ask if he knew the bitchy girl with an accent he had been landed with.

"Fine, whatever," Dom agreed to the price hike, waving a hand without looking up from his phone. He did glance up at her next snipe, and actually smirked. It was a funny call. Crude, but not totally stupid. She hadn't flown into a huff either, like some girls and guys did.

"I should have used them to plug my ears," he tapped one and raised an eyebrow. "What's your excuse for talking shit? Shoo, go get things," he gestured with one hand, flicking it out. "You should save it up, they might be able to do a personality transplant one day, I would hate for you to miss this opportunity."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Pleasure doing business with you, Douchelier." Lucy replied, smirking. Sure, people probably had a problem with taking his money but why the hell not? He was offering, and she wasn't stupid.

"Feh," The sound left her lips as she turned away, collecting what she needed from the teacher before bringing it back to their bench again. What was she supposed to do, get upset at him? She didn't care what he said about her. Too many people cared what he thought anyway, and she wasn't going to be another one of them.

Lucy laughed aloud, obnoxiously so. "People with shit personalities can't talk about personality issues, dude." She replied, still laughing through her words at him. "So you better stop."

[Dominique Chevalier]

Dom raised an eyebrow at Lucy, her laughter grating though probably not for the reasons she would think. "Sure," he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone is entitled to their opinion." His lips twitch into a slightly amused smile though, because, well, her opinion is wrong.

"We need to preheat the oven," he says after a moment, looking at the recipe sheet and bending down to click the dial around. "Then grease the pan." Looking at the butter on the dish and the pan there, he cut off a knob of it with his fingers to run around the pan. "Ehhh," he muttered, "slippery." Running his fingers together, he wiped them on his apron. "You can cut the paper, Lulu," he smirked. "If that's not too tough for you."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Guess you're entitled to the wrong one." Lucy quipped back, unknowingly having the same thought process as he was. At least he wasn't so open about what he was thinking.

She folded her arms over her chest, watching him start the whole thing and she was actually feeling a little glad. Maybe he pulled the stick out of his ass and realised how much faster things would be if he just did it on his own. Still, her eyes traveled the recipe card and she read along anyway. She wasn't about to whip out her glasses and give him that satisfaction, so things were a little blurry unless she was closer. Her eyes narrowed on him as she picked up the paper, ripping a piece out and finding some nearby scissors and went to town. That colourful snerking sound came out of her mouth as he mentioned how slippery the butter was.

"You should be used to-" Lucy paused, shaking her head and laughing. "Too easy. Don't give me jokes like that." She was finished, and the scissors hit the table before she pressed the baking paper down on the bench. There in cut out letters, it said;

F U

"Did I do it right?" She asked, grinning from ear to ear as she searched his face for a response before his mouth could be a jerk and spoil the moment.

[Dominique Chevalier]

Dom smirked. "Oh, I am," he said seriously, and managed to resist the urge to suck the butter off just to see how she'd react. But that was unhygienic. Couldn't have that. Also she was holding scissors and he was not sure how pure the metal was.

When he saw the letters, Dom gave a little huff of a laugh before he could catch himself and straighten his face. " he said slowly when he was looking at the grease proof paper letters, not showing one hint of the amusement he was feeling. "Your wit continues to astound me," he deadpanned. "But you know if you want a fuck you can just ask like a normal person, you don't have to resort to arts and crafts."

It was his turn to grin (well, a Chevalier grin which was more like a slight smile) as he raised the paper and tore a new piece off. "Circle. Cir-cle. Do they have those where you're from?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Ha, he laughed. And Lucy decided then to call that a victory because it wasn't as superior as his laughter normally was. She shrugged with her own superiority when he was being sarcastic with her; it was probably annoying to just pretend that it was a legitimate compliment. Astounding? She could work with that. "Nah, I've heard where you've been lately." She replied, indicating with a wave of her hand at his junk, "I don't need something that some fake native American slut's been all over like.. I dunno. But that's pretty fucked up." She laughed at him then, because it was funny that he went there.

"Nah, we don't actually. How many sides does that one have again?" She replied, cutting furiously into the paper to produce a square. "That it?" She asked, lifting it up and cutting a corner off. "Or is that it? I'm confused."

[Dominique Chevalier]

Dom raised his eyebrows, even as he grasped one of the stainless steel mixing bowls to feel the cool metal under his fingers. It helped him feel better, because like hell he was going to show any of the frustration and anger Tak made him feel to this girl. "She's a character all right," he agreed, voice level. "We met under interesting circumstances." He even chuckled, because it was funny. It was fucking hysterical even. "Quite, ah," he shook his head, "Une salope."

Rolling his eyes, Dom just smirked. "Two hundred dollars riding on it," he sighed. "And you can't even get a circle right. Outstanding example of your race, I am sure." Checking the recipe card, he looked at the flour and sugar and tapped his fingers again on the saucepan. "We're not going to finish on time." He was not going to fail a cooking class thank you very much. "But can I trust you around eggs? I am worried, if you do not even know your way around a circle, Lulu."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"A shit character." Lucy pointed out, turning to look away with a shrug. She couldn't help how she felt. And she wasn't exactly going to be quiet about it. Why the fuck would she? She more or less grunted when he spoke in a language she didn't understand. Whatever it meant, it was lost on her. So she said; "Oh, I get it. Y'like doing her."

Lucy smiled as dumbly as possible in his direction. She had to keep up with her own act after all. "My race? Of what, white girls? Non-French dickheads? Or just Aussies." She wasn't sure which, so he offered all three.

"We'll be fine, shut up." Lucy snapped, pulling off a third piece of baking paper and cutting it properly. She slapped it into place and looked at him with a false sense of accomplishment. "Fuck the eggs. You do it." She said, opening the carton, taking one out and forcing it into his hand. Of course, the force of it in tandem with being called Lulu made it break in his hand. She just turned her mouth into a frown and pulled away, shaking the whites off her hand. "Lady Hands, dude." She said, deciding it was a new nickname of his.