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However, when she got to Nancy and her friends, who had been working together as a group, she seemed to be completely enchanted with their cookies.
“Perfect!” she declared rapturously, finishing one and reaching for a second and then a third. “Light and crispy on the outside with just enough chew in the center. And I love the way you added extra chocolate chips on top, girls. An A plus for all of you today—keep up the good work!”
I couldn’t help feeling envious—and suspicious—as I watched this play out in front of me. From where I was standing, Nancy’s cookies didn’t look any better or worse than anyone else’s. Yet Mrs. Hornsby acted like she was eating the nectar of the gods when she tasted them.
Was something going on?
If it was, I certainly couldn’t figure it out. The other students stacked their dirty pans and bowls and mixer paddles in a towering pile beside the sink as I scrubbed. At the end of class, I was still scrubbing. As everyone filed out, Nancy turned and blew me a kiss from her too-large lips.
“See you tomorrow, Charity Case,” she sang sweetly and the two other Weird Sisters giggled loudly as they all passed me.
I gritted my teeth and kept scrubbing, wishing I could roll up the sleeves of my blouse to keep them from getting wet. But of course, I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the scars marching up the insides of my arms so I kept them buttoned at the wrists and tried (unsuccessfully) to stay dry.
At last only Mrs. Hornsby was left and since she seemed to have cooled down a little, I thought it might be a good time to talk to her.
“Mrs. Hornsby?” I ventured as she gathered her things and prepared to leave.
“Hmm?” She looked up at me, an unfriendly scowl on her face. Wow, she hated me now—I really had to get out of her class before it dragged down my entire GPA!
It was this thought that gave me the nerve to continue, despite her foreboding expression.
“Mrs. Hornsby,” I said again, as humbly as I could. “I was thinking that maybe this isn’t the right class for me. I mean after today, I’m sure you would agree I’m not cut out for Home Ec. I was thinking of maybe switching to something else—maybe History of Local Magic? Ms. Yasmeen recommended that to me especially and I thought—”
“Don’t you dare!” Mrs. Hornsby’s eyes were suddenly flashing.
“Um…what?” I said, uncertain why she was so angry.
“I forbid it!” she exclaimed. “You may not abandon my class. You will stay and see it through.”
“But…” I found myself tongue-tied by her vehemence. “But why?” I finally managed to get out.
She stabbed a finger at me.
“Because I have never seen anyone so desperately in need of the skills we teach in Home Economics in my life, Miss Latimer. Therefore, you will stay and I will teach you to cook if it kills me. Which it very well may,” she added, glaring.
“Honestly, I used to cook and bake with my mom all the time,” I protested. “I’m usually a very good cook. I think something must have been wrong with the oven. I—“
“Stop.” She cut me off, one hand raised imperiously. “What did I tell you about excuses in my classroom?”
“You said you don’t like them,” I dutifully repeated.
“Good. And what do I like instead?”
“Results,” I said flatly.
“That’s right. Show me some results, Miss Latimer, and we’ll get along just fine. But if you fail to follow the recipe again, there will be trouble. Now—finish washing those dishes, dry them, and put them neatly away on the racks before you go. If you hurry, you might be able to make the last part of dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully with much better results.”
Then she swept out of the room like a ship in full sail, taking my hopes of switching to another last period class with her.
16
I missed dinner.
I don’t know if Nancy and the Weird Sisters had anything to do with it, but I swear, some of the pans I had to scrub would not come clean. I would think I had gotten all of the cookie residue off the metal and then I would look again and see that no, I hadn’t and in fact, it was dirty all over again!
After Mrs. Hornsby’s lecture, I didn’t dare leave a single pan anything less than sparkling so I was at the task hours before I finally got finished. After drying everything and putting it away, I trudged out of the Home Ec classroom and made my way down the halls, which were now strangely deserted.
Since my class schedule said dinner was at five o’clock and my watch said it was seven, I didn’t expect to get anything to eat. The fish and salad I’d had for lunch seemed a very long time ago and my stomach rumbled unhappily as I trudged along.
