Chapter 8

At school it was amusing to see girls still wearing my ‘I believe in angels’ t-shirt. The morning went quickly, but I felt disconnected as the events of the night in Maceduckia kept running thru my head.

I wasn’t really paying attention as I ran around the track in PE, so I was surprised when I heard Mr Taft call out my name. I lifted my head up, to see where he was, and jogged off the track in his direction. I came up to the bleachers where he was sitting.

“Atwood, do you have your signed permission slip to join the track team?” he asked with a smile.

“No sir, I decided that cross country wasn’t for me,” I told him.

The smile dropped immediately. “What do you mean it’s not for you?”

“It’s not something I would enjoy, and it would interfere with other more important activities.”

“Did you even talk to your parents about the opportunity this is? Your current ability puts you in the top ten percent, with the proper training you could be looking at serious college scholarships.”

“Yes sir I did.”

“Give me five more laps, best speed, I’ll be checking with your parents about this,” He growled at me.

I just nodded, and headed back to the track. ‘Adam, give me a good pacing, I don’t want to zone out and do anything exciting.’

A metronome started beating in my head, and I matched it so that my left leg hit with each beat. I ignored the fact that I was running four more laps than everyone else, and just tried to find the zone without finding the zen.

I finished the fifth lap just as the buzzer for the end of class sounded. The locker room was deserted when I got back to it, so I took a quick shower, and dressed for lunch.

The lunch room was crowded, but a few had finished already and headed back out to the bright October sunshine. I carried my lunch box to the table and slipped in next to Captain.

“Hey,” He greeted.

I nodded back, and started pulling food from my lunch box. I didn’t really pay attention to anything but my food, until I got bumped on my shoulder.

“You ok Sam?” Captain asked.

“Yeah, just a rough Monday.”

“Still doing study group tomorrow right?”

“Yeah, definitely. Everyone knows where my house is?”

There was general agreement, and a brief discussion on getting rides, “I’ll have snacks and drinks, if you’ve got food allergies or special diet needs just text me.”

I pulled out a frozen hokey pokey trumpet out of my lunch box as I stood up from the table. A glance at the clock said I only had 5 minutes before my next class. I waved goodbye, and headed to my locker. I used the interior to camouflage my putting everything back in my storage space, and pulling my school bag back out.

Economics was taking a step back this week from macro economics to personal finances. By the end of class I had an assignment to write on why the government was heavily regulating check cashing, payday loan and car title loan companies instead of just banning them for their predatory lending. I figured the answer was simply because the alternative was unregulated loan sharks, but it was going to take some additional reading in the school book to defend my conclusions.

Geometry had a Monday pop quiz so Mr North would know who would need help that week, and on into the first quarter finals the first week in November. I got a quiz appropriate for the midterm final. After the quiz he checked my work progress, and reminded me the sooner I was ready for the final the better.

In photography I finally caught up with Beck. I’d replied to some of her Instagram posts over the weekend, but hadn’t had a response.

“I’m going to be really busy at the end of October with Q1 finals, bake sales, and other stuff, I need to figure out when we are doing our souffle photography project,” I told her.

She pulled out her phone, and checked her calendar, “How many hours will this take?”

“Good question, probably three hours minimum, maybe longer.”

“I’ve got a job on the weekends, so it’ll have to be a weekday.”

I checked my own calendar, “Ok, then the 11th works for me, it’s an in-service day, come over at noon, I’ll make us lunch, and we will get started. Alternatively we can do it right after school on the 22nd, that’s the half day we have coming up.”

“If the half day is a Friday, then I’ll be at work after school,” she replied.

“It is, so the 11th then?” I asked.

“That will work really well, thanks partner!” she said, smiling brightly as she entered the appointment.

We settled into class, with a minor discussion of projects before moving into more regular topics.

As Mr Parcels dismissed the class at the end of the school day, I almost headed for the parking lot before remembering it was the first meeting of the new chef competition club. I moved out of the flow of traffic, and rounded the central gym building at the center of campus.

I hadn’t traveled that way prior, usually only checking the otherwise as I moved from class to class, but I noticed a nice bench under a couple large shade trees, as I headed to the home EC building.

“Welcome Sam!” Ms Chambers said, getting me as my eyes adjusted from the bright sun.

Susie was already there, smiling at me.

I paused, smiled back, and responded, “It’s great to be here.”

“Sam, we have our first competition!” Susie said excitedly.

I dropped my bag by the door, and stepped into the room fully. Ms Chambers gestured to one of the many bar stools that served as seating in her classroom, and I sat.

“So, what does a chef competition look like, how is it scored, how often will we have them, and where are they held?” I asked.

“For now, a few competitions are outside our capabilities. Junior iron chef requires a team of 7, which includes 5 chefs. The first competition I’ve entered you in is Friday, November 12th. It’s in Summerville, and it’s a 3 dish competition. There are 14 teams, and each team is limited to up to 3 participants.”