Tunnels by Lesley Downie Read Free Book Online

life distracts you a little. I def need to bring a pick axe or something next time so I can knock out some of those old bricks. And maybe I should bring a can of hairspray for protection. Mom says it works almost as good as pepper spray, which I'm totally not old enough to carry.
    Kat
    P.S. David might actually like me!

Chapter Seven
    EMBARRASSING SECRETS
    Okay, so why did I get stuck taking Home Ec? My counselor must have had too much caffeine the day she chose this annoying elective for me. And I knew the General was totally in on it.
    Note to self: DANGER! If your mother wants to change you into some conventional girl, fight it! After all, who needs Home Ec when you have take-out and vintage clothing stores?
    Get this. Right as the doctor is putting me under so he can rip out my tonsils, Mom told me my counselor had called. Apparently the elective I chose for the next semester was full so I needed to choose an alternative. Can anything be more unfair? Just as the sleepy time medicine goes into my arm , Mom springs it on me how she and Ms. Lambert chose for me, instead of asking my opinion on how I'd like to spend an entire semester of my life . Like a total act of kindness was done on my behalf. Now I have to endure five whole months of cooking and sewing.
    And it's why I'm sitting right now on an uncomfortable stool beside Kelley's BFF, Ashley. Ashley, who couldn't even figure out how to open up the biscuit container so we could fry up some donuts. Oy vey (that's good grief for all you non-Jewish peeps out there).
    "You just take the edge of the spoon," I tell Miss Brainless, "and press on the line." Holy schnauzers. What kid hasn't baked up some biscuity goodness on a rainy day? It's a shame she's never had the comfort of warm biscuits, butter, and honey. Maybe wolves are raising her.
    "'Kay," she said, "but I don't want to smudge my nails. Just gave 'em a polish during lunch." Her gum smacking punctuated each word, and I wondered how I was going to get through the next forty-five minutes with her as a partner, let alone a semester.
    "Alright, class," Ms. Mazetti said, "now you must cut a circle in the center." She demonstrated the obvious, but for Ashley it was like learning the circumference of a circle so she fully needed the visuals.
    "Ooh, I can do this part," Ashley said with the same excitement I use when I've found a new vintage shop with the best selection of black clothes ever. Seriously. I wondered how she was managing Pre-Algebra if Home Ec was a challenge.
    "And remember," Ms. Mazetti warned, "don't throw away the center. There's a use for everything."
    What, are we baking tiny bread loaves with the leftover dough for her beloved mice? Mazetti's known for her love of all things mousey. Let's put it this way: she has multiple dioramas of stuffed mice (yes, they were alive once) doing human stuff like picnicking and getting married. Some might call it cute, but I think it's disturbing.
    It's not like we (meaning I) haven't made our (meaning my) point about the creepy decorations. I'm not saying which one of us (me—get the picture?) took a few of her diorama mice and stuck them, half in and half out, of her supply cabinets. Note: no animals were harmed during this act of hysterically hilarious vandalism because they were already dead ! I think she even had tears in her eyes when she came back into the room. It officially put a stop to her taking mid-period bathroom breaks.
    We call her Spaghetti Mazetti. There's a rule about teachers' names. If it rhymes with something, mock them—but don't be too mean. Mazetti was just too easy to ignore since she's Italian and a cook. I wish her last name was House or Louse because that would be super-duper funny, given the objects of her love. I usually don't go for making fun of people, but I assure you it's all pretty harmless, and she did end up laughing about the mice scattered around the room. She said how cute it was someone got them involved in our world .