The thing couldn't possibly work. A goofy contraption with an absurdly bright red handle on top, a gear and handle in the middle, and rotating ellipse-like bars at the bottom. She picked it up and examined it. She unconsciously raised an eyebrow and tried spinning the wheel. The little beaters spun and El, having never cooked anything, wondered why.

Today El wore Gitano faded jeans and a multicolored Kathy Che button-up shirt with shoulder pads—basically a bunch of colored rectangles—which coincidentally matched some macaroni wall art in the Home Economics classroom. *Well, what passes for art in a high school.*

She turned the device upside down, or was it? How did you aim it?

Quilts and handmade clothing adorned the walls. Supplies for sewing and cooking occupied the classroom counters along two walls. But the theme of the room was quilts anywhere her eye rested.

Jane set the contraption aside to examine the waffle maker. Today's assignment was to make Belgian waffles. She looked closer. Bowls, spoons, spatulas…

Mrs. Abernathy looked in the door. She wore a dull lavender dress with too many frills and laces and mauve lipstick. Her bluish-gray hair was lifted skyward in the ancient beehive style. She smiled and her teeth and gums were blue. Jane's eyes expanded.

"Hi, Jane. Sorry, I've been eating blueberries," she smiled, speaking in a louder-than-needed voice. "…are you our next Betty Crocker?"

El pursed her lips. "Uh…Betty…?"

"—Nevermind. Class starts now in fifteen minutes," Abernathy said loudly, turned, and walked away. Mike had rented a movie and suddenly Return of the Living Dead popped into El's mind. Jane wondered, *how does she not know that she looks like a brain-eating zombie?*

She picked up the mixer again. You could spin it forward or backward.

In the hallway approached a girl with blond hair. Stacy entered the room with her two friends in tow, Heather and Debbie who were also blond. While Stacy preferred a jean skirt, and super wide black belt, stripy blouse, the other two boasted mom jeans a denim jackets. Their curly-permed hairstyles seemed identical. Jane glanced at them to determine if any differences existed in hair length, radius, number of curls, or coloration. She found no discernible difference upon cursory examination…

"Do you know what that is?" Stacy asked.

"No."

"It's a hand mixer. Duh! Are you a retard?"

The girls laughed. Jane put it down. Just then Will sped through the door and landed in front of El. He wore a black, angsty leather jacket and jeans with a plain white cotton shirt. Yesterday Max told him his jeans were one size too tight, but he liked them snug. Girls did too.

Abruptly the giggling stopped. The girls turned to gaze at Will, especially his clean-cut and baby-soft light brown hair and winning smile.

"Jane," he said, "I'm in a pickle. I have a math test in *ten minutes*. I can't remember how to solve this equation. Can you help me?" He held out a sheet of notepaper to her.

"Hi. I'm Stacy," said the middle girl.

"Oh hi," he said and turned back to El.

"A-x squared plus b-x plus c equals zero," Jane said, running her fingers through her brown hair. "Use the solving form of the equation, with the discriminant at the top. Negative b plus or minus…"

"—Yeah but when it's negative what happens?"

"You get a complex solution,"

Jane said.

"And when it's zero?"

"—Excuse me, uh…Jane. Who is your friend here?"

Jane scowled at her. "I don't know, I'm a *retard, remember?" She crossed her arms.

Will glanced between the two. "You called Jane a *retard?*" Will's face was incredulous.

"No. She's lying."

"Yes you did, Stacy," said Debbie, frowning at her.

"Traitor," she replied.

"I'm Debbie," she said, holding out her hand to Will and smiling.

Stacy's jaw dropped.

"I'm Will. Will Byers," he said and looked at Stacy. "And you can't use that word—it's offensive."

Debbie's gaze lingered, as did her handshake. Will turned back to Jane.

True: Jane had noticed Will's maturation. He had smooth skin with a slight shadow of facial hair, and a handsome face paired with a new hairstyle, clean new clothes, and his natural gorgeous hazel-green eyes. He invited bountiful attention lately. Girls drooled when they saw him. Jane never heard the moniker "Zombie Boy" anymore. Instead, heads turned, in a good way.

"Oh thanks, El," he said. "I remember now," he hugged her suddenly. "You're my hero."

"I haven't forgotten how you helped me in social studies…" Jane said.

"Let's talk at lunch, gotta go," He said and took off like his life depended on the test.

Jane went back to looking at the cooking supplies, ignoring the girls. Spatula. What an odd word.

"Oh God I'm in love," Debbie declared. "He's gorgeous."

"How could you? You know I like him!" Stacy exclaimed. "Jane, uh, sorry about that *retard* thing."

"I don't think we're supposed to use that word anymore," Jane said.

"Who cares?" Stacy said. "How well do you know him?"

"We are best friends. He's so kind, and he's kind of my brother now. Do you think he's attractive?"

Stacy stared with a blank face.

"Jane, he's a f*cking Adonis," she replied. "You are his stepsister?"

"Yes, I sort of am, and he's not very interested in dating," she remarked while examining some measuring cups. "He's kind of already in love."

"Oh," the girls looked at each other.

Mrs. Abernathy entered as the rest of the kids came in. Jane took the closest seat she could.

"Today we make Belgian waffles," she announced. "They have a lighter batter and deeper pockets to hold all that syrup when compared to regular American waffles."

El licked her lips.

"There will be a quiz, so remember that a Belgian named Cleyman introduced them at the 1962 Exposition in Seattle adding strawberries and whipped cream. They took off from there and became an instant favorite breakfast food."

El pinched her lips together and swallowed. *Strawberries and Whipped Cream*

"Everyone split into groups of four and get your flour, sugar, baking powder, eggs, butter, and milk ready to mix. Today we are using electric hand mixers, but if you want you can try the antique one too."

Jane ignored Stacy and found some other kids to cook with. Making them was easy and soon she poured the batter into the waffle maker. She closed the lid. Nearby was some cool whip and some strawberries that someone washed. In no time she had one on a paper plate, sat at the desk, and put a fork into it.

She tasted the first bite.

Her eyes opened widely as she started chewing. Her head tipped back and she found her eyes closing as she savored the deliciousness. She swallowed and took a deep breath. Was she being carried away on a cloud? She smiled and took another bite, chewing slowly. A little squeak happened in her throat, unintentionally. She swallowed and made a little "o" shape with her mouth. Mrs. Abernathy smiled at her.

"Oh, these are better than Eggos," she said to the teacher.

"Home cooking is always better than store-bought."

Jane dove into the rest of the waffles with great zeal.

—-