kind of mortifying, really.
“Did you finish it?” I ask him.
“What’s that?”
“The fight, with Monty—did you finish it?” I clarify.
“Oh, hell no.” He chuckles. “He beat the snot out of me before I could even get my fists up. But I went down swinging, Jennings. You get that?”
I nod in response. I totally get that.
“So you promise to go back to being a jackass the next time I see you, right?” I ask him.
He laughs once. “Absolutely.”
“OK then.” I fiddle with my bracelets nervously and then take a deep breath. I’m not a child; I shouldn’t be nervous. “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “Seriously, thank you so much.”
Taylor grins and a single dimple catches my attention. He rubs his jaw self-consciously. It is the first time I’ve seen him look embarrassed.
“You’re welcome,” he says. “I’ll see you around, Jennings.”
I pull my backpack onto my shoulders as a plan already begins to form in my mind. I am heading down the hallway when Taylor’s laugh catches up with me.
“Out of curiosity,” he calls, “where are you headed now?”
“To learn Greek,” I call back.
Chapter Seven
“Quiz me!” I demand as I slam the piece of paper down on the table in front of Joey triumphantly.
She looks at me with equal parts pity and annoyance, which might very well be the worst combination of expressions you can have aimed in your direction.
The kitchen staff members sit silently around the lunch table, looking back and forth between the two of us. I found them all here enjoying the cool air and the coffee in the break room. The audience is unavoidable.
It took me the last four hours hunched over my laptop in the hotel lobby, but I now know every possible letter, number, and code word she could throw at me. I am utterly confident in this.
“This really isn’t necessary—”
“My dream.” There, I say it. I lay it out there in front of all seven members of this crew. It’s mortifying, but whatever. “My dream is necessary. You said I couldn’t work here without knowing shorthand, and I know it now, so quiz me!”
She starts rubbing her back, a sure sign of agitation. Harris throws me a reprimanding glance. He doesn’t want me upsetting his very pregnant wife. I get that, but I’m not going down without a fight.
“Look, Max—”
“10X?” an old voice barks from behind me.
Joey drops her face into her palm with a groan. I spin around to see Avis standing in the doorway. She holds her box of cigarettes in one hand and flicks a lighter idly in the other. I don’t need to be prompted again.
“Powdered sugar,” I answer.
“What’s the ten stand for?” She narrows her eyes.
“It’s the coarseness of the grind,” I tell her. “How fine the sugar is, I mean.”
Avis lets out a slightly maniacal laugh.
“Uh-oh, the Stork’s been studying up,” she announces to the room.
I turn back to look at the much aggrieved sous-chef.
“Quiz me,” I demand again.
Joey rolls her eyes like she is dealing with a toddler.
“Do I need to quiz you?” she asks sarcastically.
“No,” I say emphatically. “I know it all.”
She mutters something in Spanish, and beside her Harris smothers laughter with his giant hand.
“Fine.” She sighs. “Then go make the cupcakes and don’t come to me again until they’re perfect.”
“I won’t,” I tell her.
“What’s that?” she asks.
It takes me a moment to understand what she means, but I finally catch up.
“Yes, Chef.”
As I walk out of the room past a table full of grinning bakers and the old woman I idolize even though she is kind of crazy, I don’t even try to hide my smile. I might go down, but at least I’ll go down swinging.
Four hours and five dozen cupcakes later, I leave the kitchen.
I am exhausted after all the emotional drama of the day but also running on the high of having managed to get my job back. I would love to follow the rest of the crew back to employee parking and
“Did you finish it?” I ask him.
“What’s that?”
“The fight, with Monty—did you finish it?” I clarify.
“Oh, hell no.” He chuckles. “He beat the snot out of me before I could even get my fists up. But I went down swinging, Jennings. You get that?”
I nod in response. I totally get that.
“So you promise to go back to being a jackass the next time I see you, right?” I ask him.
He laughs once. “Absolutely.”
“OK then.” I fiddle with my bracelets nervously and then take a deep breath. I’m not a child; I shouldn’t be nervous. “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “Seriously, thank you so much.”
Taylor grins and a single dimple catches my attention. He rubs his jaw self-consciously. It is the first time I’ve seen him look embarrassed.
“You’re welcome,” he says. “I’ll see you around, Jennings.”
I pull my backpack onto my shoulders as a plan already begins to form in my mind. I am heading down the hallway when Taylor’s laugh catches up with me.
“Out of curiosity,” he calls, “where are you headed now?”
“To learn Greek,” I call back.
Chapter Seven
“Quiz me!” I demand as I slam the piece of paper down on the table in front of Joey triumphantly.
She looks at me with equal parts pity and annoyance, which might very well be the worst combination of expressions you can have aimed in your direction.
The kitchen staff members sit silently around the lunch table, looking back and forth between the two of us. I found them all here enjoying the cool air and the coffee in the break room. The audience is unavoidable.
It took me the last four hours hunched over my laptop in the hotel lobby, but I now know every possible letter, number, and code word she could throw at me. I am utterly confident in this.
“This really isn’t necessary—”
“My dream.” There, I say it. I lay it out there in front of all seven members of this crew. It’s mortifying, but whatever. “My dream is necessary. You said I couldn’t work here without knowing shorthand, and I know it now, so quiz me!”
She starts rubbing her back, a sure sign of agitation. Harris throws me a reprimanding glance. He doesn’t want me upsetting his very pregnant wife. I get that, but I’m not going down without a fight.
“Look, Max—”
“10X?” an old voice barks from behind me.
Joey drops her face into her palm with a groan. I spin around to see Avis standing in the doorway. She holds her box of cigarettes in one hand and flicks a lighter idly in the other. I don’t need to be prompted again.
“Powdered sugar,” I answer.
“What’s the ten stand for?” She narrows her eyes.
“It’s the coarseness of the grind,” I tell her. “How fine the sugar is, I mean.”
Avis lets out a slightly maniacal laugh.
“Uh-oh, the Stork’s been studying up,” she announces to the room.
I turn back to look at the much aggrieved sous-chef.
“Quiz me,” I demand again.
Joey rolls her eyes like she is dealing with a toddler.
“Do I need to quiz you?” she asks sarcastically.
“No,” I say emphatically. “I know it all.”
She mutters something in Spanish, and beside her Harris smothers laughter with his giant hand.
“Fine.” She sighs. “Then go make the cupcakes and don’t come to me again until they’re perfect.”
“I won’t,” I tell her.
“What’s that?” she asks.
It takes me a moment to understand what she means, but I finally catch up.
“Yes, Chef.”
As I walk out of the room past a table full of grinning bakers and the old woman I idolize even though she is kind of crazy, I don’t even try to hide my smile. I might go down, but at least I’ll go down swinging.
Four hours and five dozen cupcakes later, I leave the kitchen.
I am exhausted after all the emotional drama of the day but also running on the high of having managed to get my job back. I would love to follow the rest of the crew back to employee parking and
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