[Being a teenager, Cater's definitely succumbed to the instinct of staying up too late and sleeping in now that he doesn't have to wake up early for school. He's awake, at least, but still dozing on-and-off in bed when the knock comes at the door. He swings out of bed to answer, yawning.]
Breakfast? What'd I do to deserve a special delivery?
[Food is the perfect way to get a growing boy up and on his feet, even if he's still in pajamas.]
[She chirps, flashing him a grin; once inside, she picks the nearest flat surface and starts unpacking pancakes, eggs (sunnyside up and scrambled), toast, and - perhaps a little incongruously - congee.]
My warden and I used to cook breakfast for each other all the time, so - I wanted to continue the tradition by cooking for my inmate.
Sounds like I'm going to have to up my game, then.
[If she and her warden cooked for each other, he'd have to return the favor to properly carry on that tradition.]
Oh, but I need permission to use the kitchen, don't I?
[He makes his bed up nicely while Misty prepares the breakfast so they'll have a more suitable surface to sit on. When he's done, he lets out a whistle--look at that spread!]
You can use mine if you want, but also, don't feel obligated; I don't even know if you like to cook, so I have no expectations on that front! Really, I just wanted a good excuse to chat. How are things going with your friend - with Idia?
I don't mind! I'm not, like, the best or anything, but I used to help my mom out around the kitchen from time-to-time. I'd cook at school sometimes, too, when I was in the mood.
[More often he'd use his allowance to buy from the cafeteria and vending machines, or whine at Trey to cook for him, but sometimes!]
Things are fine.
[A suspiciously bland answer? Well, he is a teenager.]
[Give him a moment. He's going to use breakfast as an excuse to think over what to say, because he still can't help himself. Cater gets his plate set and moves himself to the top side of the bed, tapping his fork against the plate.]
We're not really talking right now, but that's pretty normal LOL.
[Cater glances toward the wall where his cabin joins with Idia's, as if worried that the other teen can overhear them.]
Things just got a little awkward with those shared dreams that were going around. But, anyway, radio silence is much better than being actively run away from, so I'm not complaining.
[He bites into his toast. See, it's so fine that he can eat his breakfast no problem!]
Still, Misty doesn't push immediately - they're freshly paired, and she's following her WWPD (What Would Pagan Do) playbook, which means she's going to try to ease in gently to this, even if easing in gently isn't one of her biggest strengths.
That doesn't mean she's going to do nothing at all, though.]
Okay, well, I have two homework assignments for you. The first one is to come back and update me in a week - just let me know how things are going with you two.
[She takes a small bite of congee.]
The second one is to have a genuine conversation with someone. It can be over the network if you want - actually, I'd prefer if it was, because then we can review it together afterwards! It also doesn't have to be about a serious topic, and I'm not going to ask you to bare your soul or spill any secrets; it can totally be surface-level smalltalk if you want. But I want it to be one hundred percent real on your end. Okay?
Aw, what--you're giving me homework? Dang, I thought dying meant my school days were over.
[But he listens to his assignments all the same, seeming to be a little relieved she stopped questioning him about the Idia situation. He nods along as he scoops eggs into his mouth.]
[She considers her plate, stirring the congee thoughtfully. Yes, it's an unorthodox pick considering neither of them are East Asian, but Pagan had made it for her and she'd made it for Pagan and now it's tradition.]
If you tell me what you like, I can cook to your tastes.
[Sorry your warden is a white lady from New Jersey, Cater.]
But, um, really, I'll try anything. I mean, it's the thought that counts, right?
[The fake-looking smile is reflexive, but she makes an effort to tamp down on it - and after a moment or two, it actually does start to look as genuine as she means it to be.]
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Breakfast? What'd I do to deserve a special delivery?
[Food is the perfect way to get a growing boy up and on his feet, even if he's still in pajamas.]
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[She chirps, flashing him a grin; once inside, she picks the nearest flat surface and starts unpacking pancakes, eggs (sunnyside up and scrambled), toast, and - perhaps a little incongruously - congee.]
My warden and I used to cook breakfast for each other all the time, so - I wanted to continue the tradition by cooking for my inmate.
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[If she and her warden cooked for each other, he'd have to return the favor to properly carry on that tradition.]
Oh, but I need permission to use the kitchen, don't I?
[He makes his bed up nicely while Misty prepares the breakfast so they'll have a more suitable surface to sit on. When he's done, he lets out a whistle--look at that spread!]
Dang, you really went all-out!
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[More often he'd use his allowance to buy from the cafeteria and vending machines, or whine at Trey to cook for him, but sometimes!]
Things are fine.
[A suspiciously bland answer? Well, he is a teenager.]
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[Misty sits right down on the end of his bed, plate of food in her lap, and waits expectantly. That's definitely not going to cut it, mister.]
Fine how?
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[Give him a moment. He's going to use breakfast as an excuse to think over what to say, because he still can't help himself. Cater gets his plate set and moves himself to the top side of the bed, tapping his fork against the plate.]
We're not really talking right now, but that's pretty normal LOL.
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[She sets her own fork down, giving him her full attention.]
Did something happen?
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[Cater glances toward the wall where his cabin joins with Idia's, as if worried that the other teen can overhear them.]
Things just got a little awkward with those shared dreams that were going around. But, anyway, radio silence is much better than being actively run away from, so I'm not complaining.
[He bites into his toast. See, it's so fine that he can eat his breakfast no problem!]
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Still, Misty doesn't push immediately - they're freshly paired, and she's following her WWPD (What Would Pagan Do) playbook, which means she's going to try to ease in gently to this, even if easing in gently isn't one of her biggest strengths.
That doesn't mean she's going to do nothing at all, though.]
Okay, well, I have two homework assignments for you. The first one is to come back and update me in a week - just let me know how things are going with you two.
[She takes a small bite of congee.]
The second one is to have a genuine conversation with someone. It can be over the network if you want - actually, I'd prefer if it was, because then we can review it together afterwards! It also doesn't have to be about a serious topic, and I'm not going to ask you to bare your soul or spill any secrets; it can totally be surface-level smalltalk if you want. But I want it to be one hundred percent real on your end. Okay?
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[But he listens to his assignments all the same, seeming to be a little relieved she stopped questioning him about the Idia situation. He nods along as he scoops eggs into his mouth.]
Sounds easy enough. I get a week for both?
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[He pauses to ruminate on this as he eats a bit more of his breakfast, digging into those pancakes.]
Just hypothetically, if I failed the assignment, how bad would my punishment be?
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[He gives his most charming, goodest boy smile.]
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Even if you're full of shit, I appreciate you saying it!
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[He pouts, lifting up his plate for emphasis.]
How could I not when you bring me surprise breakfast?
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[She considers her plate, stirring the congee thoughtfully. Yes, it's an unorthodox pick considering neither of them are East Asian, but Pagan had made it for her and she'd made it for Pagan and now it's tradition.]
If you tell me what you like, I can cook to your tastes.
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[Of course, he has his dislikes, too, but as she's learning, he doesn't like to share negativity, no matter how minor.]
But I looooove spicy food the most. The hotter the better! What about you? For when it's my turn to make breakfast.
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[Sorry your warden is a white lady from New Jersey, Cater.]
But, um, really, I'll try anything. I mean, it's the thought that counts, right?
[The fake-looking smile is reflexive, but she makes an effort to tamp down on it - and after a moment or two, it actually does start to look as genuine as she means it to be.]
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No problem, no problem. I won't surprise you with a tastebud-melting spice bomb. More for me!