A buzz of excited chatter erupted.
“Silence!” said Boris. “Now, you may begin.”
The whir of mixers filled the air. Sylvie pulled out a sifter.This could be good.She needed those extra points. Plus, the Commis Contest was a time for the best and brightest to show off their spells. If Sylvie got to participate, even in the opening ceremony, she’d have access to magical ingredients. All participants congregated in the school’s storage cellars before the opening ceremony to gather theirmise en place. It was tradition.
But before that could happen, there was one more hurdle. She and Georgia hadn’t exactly worked well together.Now, we need to make the perfect batch before anyone else. If we start fighting, we’re doomed.Georgia picked up an egg and whacked it against the bowl. Sylvie couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking the same thing.
“I’m surprised you’ve got the nerve to show your face here, Jones.” Darius’s eyes turned as dark as pieces of obsidian. “He loses his Blade, only to be forced to help you get yours.”
Sylvie felt the tips of her ears grow warm. What happened to Boris was awful, but it wasn’t her fault.
“But at least you and your mom still have a shot at the spotlight. Right?”
Sylvie readied a comeback. But before she got a chance, someone beat her to the punch.
“Shut up, Darius.” Georgia’s voice sizzled. “You’re one to talk, given the fact that your dad tried to bribe a CCS agent, thinking he could somehow buy you a Blade.”
Darius’s face flushed crimson. “I-it was all a misunderstanding.” His nose drooped toward his pointy chin.
Georgia smiled sweetly. “Maybe. But as my mama always says, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck! So, why don’t you focus on your meringue instead of other people’s business.”
Darius muttered something about an inquiry not being the same as a bribe and turned back to the mixer in front of him.
Sylvie turned to Georgia. “Thanks.”
Georgia shrugged. “You may have ruined my blouse—”
“That really was an accident,” said Sylvie.
“Fair enough,” said Georgia. “But you didn’t rat me out about the phone. So, I suppose I owed you one. Besides, he had it coming. You’re not the only one he’s been harassing.”
“I know,” said Sylvie. “I heard him yesterday in the garden.”
Georgia nodded. “He sort of … found out that … I might as well say it. Everyone will know soon enough.” Georgia took a deep breath. “My parents are both Scullery. I didn’t want people to know.”
A few kids started to whisper.
Of course, thanks to Godard, Sylvie already knew. But until now, she hadn’t thought about what it must feel like for Georgia, being thrown into a whole new world.The way Georgia was devouring stories on Rumor Wheeler’s blog. Her need to impress.Now, it made sense.Shewanted to fit in.
“I think that’s great,” said Sylvie loudly. “After all, Madame Godard wants everyone at Brindille to feel welcomed. Right?”
The whispering stopped. Several kids nodded, and those who didn’t quietly went back to cooking.
“Thanks,” said Georgia, lowering her voice. “Darius threatened to tell everyone about my background, unless I did his homework for him. But sometimes in life you have to decide if you’re gonna be the chicken or the fox.” Georgia examined her nibbled nails. “Guess I just made my choice.”
Sylvie stared at Georgia. “So, when you asked about my scar, you really didn’t know how I got it?”
“No,” said Georgia. “Of course, after you left in a huff, I went online and got the whole story… . Should we get back to our cookies?”
“Sure,” said Sylvie, still taking it all in. “But just so you know, you’re not the only one who has a non-magical background. My dad is Scullery, and Flora told mebothher parents are. I know with all the changes at the CCS, it’s a scary time to be different. But maybe you’re not as much of an outsider as you think.”
Georgia’s eyes turned misty. “Thank you.”
Sylvie picked up a sifter. “So, how did you know about Darius’s dad trying to bribe an agent?”
Georgia grabbed a spoon and scooped a mound of delicate sugar crystals. She slowly added them into the frothy egg whites. “I did a little digging online. It was buried beneath a bunch of articles about August Strange and the Golden Whisk. Luckily, I spotted it… . So why didn’t you tell Kitty out about my phone, anyway?”
Sylvie sifted the almond meal. “And get labeled a rat? No thanks. Plus, I know this might sound bad, but I wanted to hold it against you to borrow your phone.”
