/ˈtɛk.nɪˌkʌl.ə(ɹ)/

Chapter 1 - It's the yeast I can do

Gajeel

The final day of summer break started like any other. Get up, take a shower, bake the first batch of bread and wait for customers. The waiting part usually involved playing whichever game was most popular that day or putting off completing the mound of homework I'd still barely touched.

Today, a platform game was all the range- bright colours accompanied by an overly upbeat soundtrack. I cracked a satisfied smile as I tapped my way to a new high score, even though I knew I'd probably delete the app in a day or two.

Letting my phone slide out of my fingers onto the kitchen counter, I glanced at the timer on the oven. I had about 15 minutes until the bread would be ready. Figuring this was enough time to at least look at what my homework was and then text some friends about how screwed I was, I carefully ascended the stairs to my bedroom, treading carefully so as not to awaken my parents.

They worked so hard throughout the week when I was at school, I almost didn't mind getting up at an ungodly hour every weekend to help out in the bakery. Almost.

Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I flopped face-first into the welcoming warmth of my duvet, burrowing my feet under the pillows.  If I had my way I'd go back to sleep.

Yawning, I closed my eyes, remembering how my mother used to lie with me after I'd had nightmares and rub circles in my back with her fingers. She'd sing to me softly and help me drift back off to sleep. There was this one song she used to sing... something about a bluebird I think. I can't remember it anymore.

Remembering my time limit, I forced myself to open my eyes. Looking up, I  groaned at the tower of books on my desk. I propped myself up on my elbows, begrudgingly reaching out my hand and tracing my finger down their spines.

Maths? Too hard.
RS? Too boring.
French? Too... French?

I sighed but smiled, appalled yet mildly amused at my own apathy. Looking across for a pen, my eyes fell on my pride and joy. My camera.

I yearned to pick it up, to use it, but the lens was cracked. I'd dropped it in the first week of summer and didn't have the money or skills to fix it. I'd been trying to keep it hidden from my parents, but something told me they already knew. They've been just a little too forgiving with me lately. Filled with a bitter feeling of sadness and regret, I turned away. If only I'd been more careful.

The shrill wail of the kitchen timer broke my trance and I quickly pulled a hairband off my bedpost, fastening my thick hair into a loose ponytail. Hygiene has to come before fashion, I told myself, grimacing as I imagined how stupid I must look. Quickly tying an apron behind my back, I raced downstairs, darting into the kitchen and turning the oven off.

Dropping down to the floor, I reached out to open the oven door, but the sound of the shop bell stopped me in the act. Strange, I thought, we don't usually get customers this early.

Heaving myself up with a sigh (my exhausted form would have rather have curled up on the floor and slept) I trundled into the other room, stopping as I found the cafe empty.

"Hello?" My voice cracked and I cleared my throat, making a mental note to drink something at the next available opportunity.

Surveying the cafe, my eyes scanned every detail, from the squashy armchairs to the old Meakin jugs my mum insisted were "vintage" but my dad secretly thought were tacky. The sign on the door still read "closed" but I'd unlocked it for the morning's milk delivery. Maybe whoever it was had left? Or maybe there was no one in the first place.

Turning away, I decided I must have been hearing things - it wouldn't be the first time. Getting up at 5am does stuff to you.

A small sigh stopped me in my tracks and I turned back towards the counter. Stealing another look around the room, I noticed the lid of one of yesterday's cookie trays was slightly askew.