Pies anyone? (open)

[Rebecca Dewitt]

The semester had been going on for a few months now and Rebecca still felt the thrill of a first day ruminate in the pit of her stomach as she set up for class. It was going to be a good day. Her students were going to make homemade pies-no easy task to be sure-but fun all the same. She prepared each station with necessary ingredients. It would be a two day task these pies, and today was crust day.

She finished the table tops with the flour, sugar and salt (leaving out the main ingredient butter would be foolish-it had to be added when very cold) and began writing the instructions on the chalk board. It was a very simple recipe, but if not done right, the crust wouldn’t hold filling….not to mention it would be gross.
Rebecca has learned to be selective on what she tries of students. After all, pre-pubescent teens are not usually the best chefs. She also realized that a simple taste may offer a bit more insight in the student’s life then she needed to know. Her first experience with a young boys tacos. They tasted fine, a bit dry, but were mingled with the overwhelming feelings of lust for his girlfriend... and left a very clear picture of what he planned to do after classes.

Rebecca sighed and rubbed her head at the thought then continued to write the rest of the recipe.

[Deleted]

This could quite possibly and easily be Oriel's favorite class ever. Not only did they do stuff rather than just stare at a book all day and listen to a dude who sounded like a droning foghorn, but the stuff they did was practical! And in some cases, like today, edible!

The downside was that Oriel was, unsurprisingly, surrounded by girls.

And actually that wasn't a bad thing. Oriel liked girls, most of them were cute, except when they crowded and gossiped and giggled. One on one, he could handle them like an expert; all at once, and Oriel tended to get grumpy.

But none of that mattered because he was actually in a class he liked that did stuff he liked so he could make stuff he liked. Like pies. And pastries.

Oriel entered the room, fake scowl on his face as per the usual to hide his actual excitement, and grabbed a seat on the far side of the classroom closest to the door, halfway up from the back. He gave the teacher(who honestly wasn't bad looking in his opinion) a nod of acknowledgement, then lazily started poking the bag of flour with the eraser of his pencil.

[Rebecca Dewitt]

Rebecca turned from the board just as Oriel Vanguard came in the class, scowl on his face. Rebecca gave him a smile.

“Ready to make pie?” She asked.

She wasn’t sure what to make of Oriel. He was the only boy in this particular class, though she has other classes with a few more boys in it. He never looked happy to be here, but his work whether in cooking or sewing was always outstanding. Rebecca wasn’t an easy A giver, but that boy deserved it. She made a mental note to try his pie when they finished; Then hesitated at the thought. She was thinking about the taste…would it be nosey if she tried his pie to also see what he thought about making the food?

She grinned feeling like a snoop and asked Oriel: “Have you ever made pie before? If not, youre in luck. It’s a pretty easy recipe-“ She motioned to the board’s instructions. “But it tastes delicious."

She felt a thrill of excitment. She really did love teaching.

[Deleted]

Oriel turned his head to the instructor as he walked in, giving her a sharp nod, scowl still on his face, before taking his seat.

Pies were good. They were practically danishes. Full of fruity goodness, or whatever else you could put in them. And Oriel had every intention of feeding the whole damn thing to his lovely squishy Phoenix as soon as classes were over....and he briefly wondered if he could store it somewhere until the end of the school day.

He flashed his eyes up when the teacher spoke. What was her name? Doo-it? Whatever. Though his face did relax as he answered her question a slight less warily than he would have a few months ago. "Once," he said simply. He was resistant to elaborate, but did after a beat of silence. "My foster granny taught me. When I was..." he thought for a moment, "six....seven?" She actually taught him pretty much everything he knew about cooking up until the start of this class, though the extent of that knowledge was limited to throwing things in a pot and hoping it turned out ok, which it miraculously did more times than not, so he obviously learned something. "Haven't tried it since though."