Sh, it's a secret!

Chapter 5

I don't think Damian likes me.

We started lessons the next day. Tuesday. After my shift at the bakery, I told Johnny that I would be staying late to do some stuff. Johnny could definitely tell that I was up to something, but didn't bother pressing me on the matter. Damian came 30 minutes after closing time, just like we had planned. He wasn't wearing his school uniform anymore and he was carrying a big bag that I assumed was full of ingredients.

"Welcome," I said. I spread my arms open wide. This place was my paradise so of course I was proud of it. I wasn't allowed to use the recipe we used at the store, so I tried out a recipe that I found online. With some modifications I was able to perfect the recipe and make some macaroons in the 30 minutes after closing time as models.

"Follow me," I said showing him into the kitchen. I pulled my macaroons and the recipe I used out from the break room and began explaining. I handed Damian the recipe and picked up one of my lemon macaroons.

"Macaroons are really delicious but really hard if you don't know what you're doing," I started gesturing with my hands. I still had on my work uniform and apron. Once again, Damian hung on my every word. He would look at the recipe, then at me, then the recipe, then me. It was hilarious.

"You start with almond flour and confectioner's sugar," I said taking the ingredients out of the bag one by one, "You have to sift these together to make the batter smooth and light. After that, you beat the egg whites into a meringue and add the caster sugar, food coloring, and flavoring. You fold the dry and the wet ingredients together and you have your batter."

I didn't explain it thoroughly but I tried to make it simple enough for him to understand. He nodded but I wasn't sure if he actually understood.

"Any questions?"

"Nope," he replied, "Let's get started."

We set aside 2 hours for us to bake on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 7:30. Hopefully he would learn quickly and we would only have to meet for a few days.

I could tell that he had never made anything before in his life. I had to measure out all of the ingredients for him because he wasn't sure how to do it himself. He looked like a lost puppy in the kitchen. He forgot to preheat the oven so I did it. He forgot to set a timer when he put the shells in the oven so I did it. He forgot to wear oven mitts when taking to baking sheet out of the oven, so he got burned. It was fun watching him waste all the ingredients that he had bought with his own money. For the most part I sat back eating my samples and watching Damian screw up.

After two hours of chaos, he had made his first batch of macaroons.

"These aren't so bad," he said comparing one of his with one of mine. His were cracked and brown, despite all of the red food coloring he spilled into the egg whites. They were lumpy ovals and not smooth and circular. Overall they were awful. Plus, he had made a mess of the kitchen.

"I guess," I said, trying to think of how to phrase it, "you have room for improvement."

"Definitely," he said, chuckling a bit. He popped one of his macaroons in his mouth.

"These aren't bad at all," he exclaimed, then popped one of mine in his mouth. He turned around suddenly and looked at me.

"These are amazing."

"I'm glad you think so," I said, "But I need to get home."

"Oh," he said," I understand. I'll go now."

"Woah, woah, woah," I said sticking my hands out at him, "You have to help me clean up."

It took us another 30 minutes to clean up the kitchen. When we left we went in opposite directions.

The next day at school, not everyone was back from vacation yet, but Marion Howler was. God, I hated her.

Hello there. :)

Uh oh. I smell drama and rivalries a brewin'. Haha I have people that I hate more than anyone else in the entire world but hey sometimes you can bond with people over your mutual hatred for someone. That's how I made all none my friends.