Page 14 of Catching the Kot'oll Driver

I take a breath, letting it out. I guess I won’t even get a thank you for what I’ve done for her. Not that I did it for a thank you, anyway. It is what it is.

My stomach rumbles. Maybe it is time to get some food. If only I could figure out the weather outside and get a hint of when I can get out of this place, then I can have good food in the city instead of prepared food that I reheat or tinker with. I’d skip those, but when I’m flying, options are limited. The company provided them, so I may as well spend their money instead of my own.

I get up and head to the kitchen, which is pretty much just a room with cooking and eating utensils. There’s a stove that runs on electricity, an oven, and other devices, but all I use is the microwave.

Next to the sink, there’s a fork, which is all I use among eating utensils. It sits there as I’m too lazy to put it into the drawer, only to take it out a few hours later for another meal. I’m the only one here, was, so it didn’t matter what I did.

Even when the human female is here, she still won’t change how I arrange myself.

I open the fridge, pulling out a pack of pre-made meat and noodles, respectively. It’s not that bad. There is still plenty left to last me through the weather.

I toss the packs into the microwave and start the machine. I hold the fork with my teeth, standing to the side of the microwave as I wait for it to do its thing. Someone should invent a machine that can heat food in a second, then I won’t have to wait.

Mother has never liked how I bite utensils and hold them like that. She’d always say that I should use my hand or just put the fork to the side until I needed it, but I’d rather do things my way.

The microwave dings, so I open the door. The food smells great, which pretty much means that I’m hungry enough. Now, I just have to wait for the packs to cool off a bit before I can eat.

I turn around when I feel someone’s watching me. It has been a while since I felt that. And that reminds me of my poor bed that’s occupied by the ungrateful brat. Or, was.

She is at the door, peeking inside.

I stare at her, waiting for her to say something.

She glances at me, then at the microwave. I ignore her stare and pick out my packs. I open the pack for noodles, then the meat.

Her gaze on me grows hotter. She is probably also hungry. She was in the cold for a while, so it would make a lot of sense for her to be hungry. But that’s her problem, not mine.

In theory, the right way to eat is to pull a bowl and add the bags together, but I’m not going to do that. I add the meat and the sauce to the noodles instead, taking the fork from my teeth and mixing the food.

She swallows and her eyes glue on my pack. I fork up the noodles, enjoying the sauce at the same time. It is called curry sauce. I like the rich herb flavoring, but my family makes better sauce than this. The meat is tender, nothing super impressive, but for pre-made food, they are the stable and safe option.

I continue with my food, leaning onto the kitchen table as I fill my stomach. This city probably has better to offer, but I’m good with this too.

She comes over to me. I catch sight of her at the corner of my vision, but I stay put and wait to see what’s in her head. If she decides to take my food from me, she’ll be dumb. I can eat my food while punching her with my spare hands.

She clears her throat. “So... You use your two lower hands to eat, huh?”

That’s such a dumb question. I use whatever hands I feel like using and it has nothing to do with her. It is as dumb as asking whether someone walks the first step with their right foot or the left one.

I continue with my food. I’m not entertaining her stupidity. After she annoys me being a brat, I’m not going to offer her food, even though I know that’s likely what she’s after.

Silence lingers in the kitchen despite the occasional slurp from me as I enjoy my food. With her gaze, these packs somehow taste better. Maybe that’s a coincidence, or maybe not.

She says, “I wonder...” She takes a deep breath as if talking pains her. Her stomach rumbles and her cheeks grow red. I pretend not to hear that. I don’t care anyway.

If she thinks the world will bend to her will because she’s police, she’s wrong.

She looks at the fridge. I’m poised to stop her if she decides to steal from me, right under my nose.

“I mean... Looks like the power isn’t back.”

I nod, putting a piece of meat into my mouth.

She takes another breath as if she’s trying to suck all the air in the room so she can suffocate me. “Can I have some food?”

“Why should I give you my food?”

Her eyes widen as she stares at me as if she doesn’t understand my words. “What did you say?”

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