Éclair Academy

“Can’t you dimwits chop any faster?! My four year old granddaughter has more strength in her wrists!”

Half asleep, I wrinkled my nose as I expertly sliced and diced the onion in front of me and scooped the contents into a pan of simmering butter. As I stirred the contents with a wooden spoon I watched the cooking instructor, Chef Vimes, terrorise the girls in another section of the large teaching kitchen slash classroom. Next to me Jenna scanned through the ingredients scribbled on the board before she added diced rind less back bacon to her own pan. Despite my exhaustion I smiled; I was far ahead of her and the rest of the girls.

Yesterday late afternoon, we had snuck back into the class the way we had left, again with the help of Jenna’s ‘cousin’ Ivan. We had been surprised that we had not been immediately accosted once we entered the dorm building. The rest of our year were too distraught and tired to give us a second glance and the matron was too busy placating and nursing them to even notice us when we quietly slipped into our room. A bit sunburnt and exhausted from all that walking we had barely taken our shoes off before we both collapsed on our separate beds and fell asleep.

The onions were soon done before I ladled them, along with my grilled bacon, mozzarella and chopped peppers into another bigger pan where my omelette had already been flipped and was becoming a rich golden brown. With a quick flip of my spatula I had folded the layer of egg over onions and co. I turned off the gas stove and scooped out the plump omelette into a plate over which I lightly drizzled sweet balsamic fig sauce and a crackling of pepper. Like a bloodhound sensing potential prey Chef Vimes swooped in from nowhere.

“I’m finished,” I told him, trying to keep my voice neutral but a cocky smile curved involuntarily across my face. Luckily Chef Vimes had already turned his beady eyes from mine before he struck the omelette with a ready fork. I let out my breath; the omelette had not crumbled but had stayed in its compact form like a well folded dumpling. I knew he had specifically asked, no demanded, that we must not have weak omelettes. Unlike the other instructors he liked his, and demanded that everyone did as well, firm but soft and steaming on the inside.

I watched in anticipating silence, as did the rest of the class as a matter of fact, as the teacher inserted a small portion of egg, bacon, cheese and vegetable into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed.

“Hmm…try to use a bit less butter next time and only use one pan,” he told me with a strange look in his eyes before turning to face the class and roaring, “Pay attention to your own food! Anyone who burns valuable ingredients will stay in after school and play scullery maid for the fourth years!”

Chef Vimes turned back to me. “Clean up your station Miss…?”

“Turner,” I offered.

“Miss Turner and spend your remaining time, preferably studying quietly while the rest of these pups finish up.” He stomped off to yell at a girl who had spilt egg all over her apron.

I met Jenna’s eyes and she smiled and shrugged at me before going back to frying her own onions. I was unused to not being praised and as I scooped my omelette into my lunchbox for later eating I thought about Mr Vimes’ attitude and decided that I preferred it to my sisters’ constant praising and petting. It was a fresh experience and smiling slightly I went to wash my plate, pans and utensils at one of the many sinks overlooking the green field outside.
In the short time I had known Mr Vimes, twenty minutes exactly, I had the impression that he never praised, if ever and but that he had silently approved of my cooking.

And as I was off in daydreams of surprising hordes of teachers and peers with my cooking and of Jenna asking me sweetly for help I noticed movement on the field outside. I leaned forwards to get a better look at the escalating scene down below. A student in Lao Hang uniform was arguing with a tall slim blonde who looked familiar. I looked up, wondering if anyone else was seeing this but figured that those on ground floor wouldn’t be able to see through the mass of bushes that would block the girl and boy from floor view. And everyone in my own class was too busy cooking or being terrified.

Then the girl passed something to the guy and my eyebrows shot up. Drugs? Money? A gift? Just as I was about to stick my head out of the window through sheer burning curiosity, I accidently let the running hot water pour over my hand. Wincing I ran my red hand under cold water but when I looked back outside the girl and guy had both disappeared.
I went back to wipe clean my station’s countertop down and stopped. The instructor had just swallowed a bite of Jenna’s omelette and a few seconds later he nodded and left. Stunned I walked over to her.

“He didn’t say anything?” I asked trying to act nonchalant.

“Nope. It appears I beat you on our first day.” Jenna winked and carried off her dirty plate and utensils. Angrily I wiped my counter clean and pulled out a book to read; my brain was buzzing too much to concentrate on studying. And unfortunately it was too late by the time I realised that I should’ve asked Jenna what she done to make her omelette so perfect.

The academy bell tolled and Jenna and I were the first ones to leave, she walking with a peaceful smile while I itched to tell her about what I had seen but this was conflicted by my need to sulk.

“Spit it out,” Jenna told me still looking ahead as we made our way to our first economics class.

How’d she know? I gave in fooling myself that as a supposed gay guy I should be a gossip monger when in fact I just wanted to have something to talk about. “Well, while I was washing up I saw a Lao Hang student and a girl arguing in our field. Hmm…The girl looked familiar but that must’ve been my imagination. It usually is. Then they exchanged something…and…err…I was suddenly distracted and when I looked back they were gone.”

Jenna shrugged. “Probably just a couple’s fight and make up or whatever. Brave and stupid of the guy to step onto Éclair ground though; he could’ve easily been caught.”

Something occurred to me suddenly as we entered our economics class. Luckily the teacher wasn’t in yet so we still had a few minutes to chat. “I don’t get it that we only get our ordered uniforms next week, not that I’m complaining but it’s weird.”

Jenna gave me a condescending smile as if I was a six year old asking about Santa . “We do, it’s just that over the years the teachers decided to drop uniform for only the first week of the school year as it’s a very relaxed time, even for them and the seniors. It became sort of a celebration time for them and torture time for us.”

Both of us were suddenly struck by the same thought and we sat down grimly at our desks. We had escaped the first round of torture and we would probably pay for it double. I thought about how they would find our bodies in the freezers one day next to the puff pastry and rum and raisin ice cream. I hate rum and raisin!

But just then the teacher walked in, an excitable bespectacled middle aged man who wore his shirt inside out. He made banking and hotel management sound fun…at least for everyone else. Jenna was bright eyed and bushy tailed and listened eagerly. “Teacher’s pet”, I scoffed under my breath as she dealt out notes on behalf of the teacher. She heard me and scowled giving me my notes last.

To my utter delight the bell tolled and checking my class schedule I found I had Break now. Jenna went to talk with the teacher but made me promise to save her place in the cafeteria. I swept out like a hungry alley cat only to be yanked to the side and pulled into the girl’s bathroom.

“Finally got you,” a tall red head snarled at me. I swallowed heavily, remembering her from yesterday morning as she tortured fellow students. I’m surprised she doesn’t breathe fire. “Think you could slip through the system eh?”

A diabolical plan hatched inside my devious mind and I grinned inwardly. Years of being the baby of my family, living with grumpy sisters and a sympathetic father had made me the expert of sucking stories out of my thumb. Good ones. I forced tears to my eyes and looked up at the girl piteously.

“My…my sister…” insert excessive sniffing and gulping “is in the hospital!” I bawled. “She’s in a critical state and mom won’t allow me…to see her…she think sis will be alright and doesn’t want me to worry.” I hunkered down seeing with satisfaction that many girls were staring at us. “But I knooooow she won’t… make it!”

Ever thought why people thought I was a spoiled brat? Okay, maybe I’ve already proved myself many times but this is my best stunt. Cry and make your opponent look bad.
I think the red head was expecting tears but not of this kind. “Shut it!” she hissed furiously. “You think I’ll fall for that?”

Yes. Maybe…No…I’m not so sure especially if you sound like one of those evil Russians from the movies. Where’s your leather outfit and your boss Boris? But I could see there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. I was a damn good actor when I wanted to be.

Another girl, with a queen’s bearing and expression came into the bathroom. “Clara, might I have a word with you?”

I’m saved! This girl had angelic blonde curls and soft blue eyes and she looked like this…Clara’s senior. Clara grimaced was gently tugged aside to a fierce whispered conversation, which, in the heavily packed bathroom, I could not hear.

Suddenly this new girl grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the bathroom. She flashed me an all too white smile. “I’m Diana, head of the first years’ student affairs.” I took notice of the badge she wore over her designer linen shirt. “Sorry about what happened back there, Clara might seem a bit vicious but she was just worried about you.” I’ll eat my own foot if that was the truth but I decided to play along.

“No, it’s fine. I was just visiting my sister in the hospital. I know I’m not supposed to go out without permission but…” I added in a sniff for good measure. “If I asked for permission my mother would know and then…”

Diana smiled. “How about this? You come over to my dorm’s living room tonight; we’ll have some tea and cake and sort out this whole mess, what do you say? Give me the number and I’ll speak to your mother on your behalf about visiting your sister okay?”

Did she really believe my story or was she just waiting for me to fall for hers? Being spoken to as if I was a twit was a bit annoying but I kept my grimace at bay and smiled as angelically as I could. “That’d be nice, thank you very much.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this okay?” she winked at me. “Not everyone gets special treatment and they’d be jealous if they knew.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but only smiled as she patted my back and walked off. Half in a daze, later I realised I must have been half petrified actually, I wandered over to the cafeteria and sat down across from Jenna who looked up angrily.

“What took you?” she asked. I stared at her blankly. Her eyes widened as the colour drained from her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I...think we have a problem.”