A Pinch Of Crazy

Chapter 7

Copyright © 2013 Casey Lee

A   P I N C H   O F   C R A Z Y

CHAPTER 7 | 1 INSANE COOKING CLASS

After hanging up on Luke, I bounced about my room, collecting various textbooks and notebooks that I had thrown across the room, when I had had searched frantically for my recipe for roasted carrots.

Because really, the most logical place for an Epicurious printout to hide would be in my Chem textbook, right?

I loaded everything I would need into my backpack, and hitched it onto my shoulders before shoving on a random pair of shoes and leaving my room, making sure to shut the door tightly behind me.

I ambled downstairs, told my Mom what I was doing before leaving the house, grabbing a scarf on my way out. It had warmed up a little since I was last outside, but the wind still bit bitterly at my exposed face and hands, and I buried my hands deeply into my pockets to find whatever warmth was left. I was quickly discovering that, although cute, my leather jacket did little to insulate. I practically ran to the library, which was only a few blocks away, letting out a loud sigh when I entered the heated interior.

I pushed my hair out of my face, running through the tangled locks with my fingers and flipping it to fix the part. The library was silent, except for the hum of radiators and faint screech of the wheels of the rusting library cart. Mrs. Merritt the quiet, stern, librarian, was probably re-shelving books that always seemed to needed to be reorganized, despite the fact that people rarely came to they library.

I found a table in a corner of the library, among the encyclopedias A-J. I then opened my history textbook, and started decoding the social reasons behind the Revolutionary War. Needless to say, I started dozing off soon after taking notes, and my pencil ended up drawing little swirls and hearts around the sides of the page instead of taking the extensive notes my teacher had assigned.

I shook my head, to wake up a bit, and fished my iPod out of my backpack.

I shoved the ear buds in and started scribbling out notes as fast as I could, wondering the whole time why the writers of this book insisted on spending pages on how blacksmiths help spur on the revolution.

Humming softly, I closed my textbook and shoved it back into my bag before pulling out the English essay I had to get started on.

I fished around in my backpack, before coming across the current poetry book we were reading in class. I flipped through it, before finding the poem that I had dog-eared, and had highlighting and sticky notes everywhere, before I started writing furiously. Despite the fact that my English teacher didn't know who I was, I still managed to get pretty good grades in her class so the essay went quickly, the words flowing out of my pen like water out of a fountain.

Before I knew it, it was dark outside, and almost 5:30, around the time I figured Luke would come pick me up. I finished the thought I was on, and started to load up my backpack, throwing everything that was strewn across the table into my backpack. Once I was done, I laid my head on the table and listened to the music that was flooding my ears, a peppy dance beat that Eric had bought on our shared iTunes account a while ago, and I had never gotten the chance to remove it. I was totally zoned out, examining the encyclopedias and the bright birds and dark pictures of the Great Depression that was plastered on the covers. I was so zoned out in fact, that when a tap on my shoulder came, I jumped a mile high. I groggily turned around to face a balding man, with wrinkles and a boyish grin on his face. I recognized him as Luke's grandfather, and I quickly stood up, pulling my earbuds out of my ears and shoving them into my pocket.