<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/64/a1/eb/64a1ebbbcf4fdbd74d30ee3e374e3270.jpg)</div>A soft voice broke in on Celine's reading, and she turned to see one of the pair of guys from by the door at her elbow. Up close, he was cute, a bit on the glowery side, like a catalogue model or 'Third Guy in Boy Band.' She wasn't a swoony type, but she liked his eyes, so it took her a second for the meat of his questions to register.<br/><br/>"Oh, the aprons? In the locker over there." She gestured, with a smile, and caught herself Vogueing just the tiniest bit. Oh. My. God. Rebound Central. Was she<em>really</em>such an alley cat she needed to flirt with some guy- who looked to be  nearly ten years younger than she was- just to get over finally pitching Renée out of her life. His even younger friend was now engrossed in something on his phone- maybe they weren't attached at the hip?  She really needed to stop thinking that way. "I had to go hunting, too."<br/><br/>Letting her eyes drift over towards the blonde- who was hella cute, but also seemed to be about as dense as a fence post- she smirked, lips curling up and eyes crinkling. "She brought her own sauce...and wanted to be sure it was vegan. Only, see, the lid wasn't on tight..." She let that sink in for a second, the went on, a little archly, "I wonder what she's going to do when she realizes we're making omelettes today. I'm betting on hairflip and walkout, though we might see a bit of a row with the teacher first."<br/><br/><em>You donkey!</em>Exploded from the teacher's iPad, and he had the grace to look embarrassed, at least, as he shut it off. "Very well, class," he belted, in a rather clearly put-on French accent. "Since it looks a sis everyone has at last arrived, let us begin. The secret to a perfect omelette is the temperature of the pan. And making sure your eggs are well-whipped."<br/><br/>"Eggs?" The blonde's head came up, face a perfect study of a traffic-transfixed deer. "Here we go," Celine whispered, nudging her new acquaintance.