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his arms when he talked. “It’s a glorious day in seventh-grade Home Economics.” He sat on his desk, his long legs reaching the floor. “As you know, this is the first time this class is being offered at Alfred Nobel School. What you might not know is that this is a trial program, and I really want to make it a huge success.” He wrote the words “huge success” on the board. I wrote them in my Home Ec notebook.
    â€œLet’s create something deeee-licious. Today, and for thenext two weeks, is Free Expression. That means we won’t have any set structure. Use the tools and ingredients at your stations to make whatever you’re inspired to create. Class, cook with your heart”—he closed his eyes and clenched his fists—“and your soul.” When he opened his eyes, they sparkled. “Begin.”
    I raced to one of the six kitchen areas set up around the large, bright room and claimed my space. I looked at the various recipe cards scattered on the countertop and opened the pantry to see what I had to work with. I felt inspired to make supermoist butter cupcakes with butter-cream frosting.
    I started at the top of the recipe card and added all the basic dry ingredients to a bowl. As I sifted two cups of all-purpose flour, I noticed the Home Ec room had grown unruly with raised hands. Kids surrounded Mr. Douglass and tried to be louder than one another so that he could hear
their
questions:
    â€œWhat does T-B-S-P mean?”
    â€œWhich bowl should we use?”
    â€œHow do you use this mixer-thing?”
    I cracked an egg and whipped it up with butter, amused by the frenzy surrounding me. Once I blended the wet and dry ingredients, I dipped my finger in to taste. It was okay, but not great. I liked my batter to be GREAT. Felice Foudini says you won’t have
awesome
cupcakes, cake, or muffins without totally awesome batter first.
    I decided to stray from the recipe on the card. I went to the pantry at the head of the classroom to see what I could find. Instant vanilla pudding. That was good, but not enough. I passed the mob surrounding Mr. Douglass and opened the double doors of the refrigerator. Sliding some stuff around, I saw the thing that would add the zest I was looking for: cream cheese.
    I popped the cream cheese into the microwave to soften it a bit before adding it to my ingredients. With the hand mixer, I blended it into the batter. Then I added the pudding mix. I was so busy blending my batter while slowly turning the bowl that I didn’t notice the room get quiet. When I looked up I saw Mr. Douglass with a strange look on his face and I thought he was mad because I had done something I wasn’t supposed to.
    I turned off the mixer.
    He picked up the recipe card and looked on the countertop and in the trash area. He scrutinized the empty pudding box and the empty cream cheese container. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Were you saving those for something?”
    The expression on his face slowly eased itself into a smile. “No, not at all.” He dunked a spoon into my batter and tasted it. “This is delicious, Miss Quinn. You are quite the independent chef who is not afraid to experiment and explore your creativity.” He clapped—slow, deep claps with his hands cupped. “Perhaps I can put this into the oven for you. Then you could start over from the top and give the class a bit of ademonstration. That will allow me to address the questions of many students.”
    Actually, I wasn’t thrilled to let go of the fab batter. And I wasn’t excited to disclose the ingredients I had added to make the batter so fabulous in the first place, either.
    â€œOf course. I would love to,” I said.

6
Lunch
    Mix together:
    1 secret
    1 tableful of seventh-grade hotties
    2 Rusamano boys
    1 evil neighbor who’s out to get me
    2 packages of Twinkies
    A splash of yellow mustard
    Directions:
Pack all ingredients in a