I checked my SuperSnap account one last time before I powered down my phone. Colin wasn’t the best social media user even during the school year, but I’d hoped he would at least post a few photos so I could see where he was. Like, was he even in Bayville right now? And if so, where was he?

I sighed and then took a deep breath in for courage, like my dad had taught me. I was outside my new classroom at the Y and was ready to learn all about food writing for three hours a day, two mornings a week. What I wasn’t ready for was a sea of new faces.

I gripped the doorknob and pushed with a sweaty palm. The door didn’t open. I could see kids sitting inside and the teacher at the desk. It didn’t look like they had started yet, but it was one minute before start time. I pushed again. Was the door locked? I gave the doorknob a rattle, and a bunch of people looked up at the door. My face started a slow burn from the bottom up; the feeling of the heat rising in my cheeks made me even more embarrassed, so I blushed harder. I’m sure my face was scarlet. I gave the door one more yank, and in doing so, I also somehow pulled it, and the door opened.

Pull, not push. Good one, Allie.

I stumbled into the classroom awkwardly, and a few of the kids giggled. Not meanly, but it was still embarrassing that they had noticed me at all.

“Good morning!” said the teacher cheerfully.

I mumbled a “good morning” and headed to the last row of the classroom. Just as I set my bag down on the desk, the teacher called, “We’re not too big a group, so let’s all try to stay toward the front of the room, please. It makes for better conversation, okay?”

Everyone swiveled to look at me. I nodded, trudged back toward the front of the room, and selected a seat behind a very large boy, who would hide me well.

Phew. Safe.

I settled into my seat and darted a few glances around at the other kids. From what I could see, there were around sixteen of us, equally split between boys and girls, some a little older than I was, but not super-old. Probably early high school, like ninth graders.

“All right. I think it’s time we get started!” said the teacher, standing up at the front of the classroom. “I’m Valerie Gallo, and I’m super-excited to be your instructor for this course. I love cooking and food, and talking and writing about cooking and food, and I am really looking forward to getting to know you all. I think we’ll cook up some great things in this course together, haha!”

Everyone chuckled politely, and Ms. Gallo grinned.