Only a few Millenials would eat in their restaurant because of the old fas.h.i.+oned atmosphere, presentation, and flavors, she thought.

Sheila looked at the blond girl and extended her hand. "Hi, my name is Sheila Hernandez, from the Philippines, and I love challenges, most of all when it comes to cooking. Thank you for complimenting my beauty but my skills in cooking have been tested well back in my country. I would be glad to listen to my Senior if I need an advice. That is if I need one."

"Ohhh," the other students exclaimed, a male student even whistled. Her words were like a knife striking the atmosphere from its serenity to a chaotic vibe.

The girl didn't avert her eyes and continued her mocking poise. Then she laughed as she shook Sheila's extended hand and pulled the chair beside her. "I like you, girl. Move here and eat with us. I'm Dandy, short for Dandelion, South African."

"Yeah, we thought you'll cry. I'm Lisa, American." A black girl said and shook hands with Sheila.

"You need guts to study here. I'm Jimmy, American like her," the man who whistled said.

Each one came and introduced themselves. The whole thing ended as nothing happened. They chatted like they were closed friends for years. Minutes after, a bell rang. The students scurried and left the mess hall in a dash. The blond girl pulled her. "You better hurry or you'll be cooking dinner if you're late."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if you need help just call this handy dandy Dandy." She strutted a catwalk and said, "I'm actually a model aspiring Lady Chef," then ran and laughed together with Sheila.

"It feels good to be here," said Sheila while running.

"What?" Dandy only heard cryptic words as the bell rang again and Dandy went into a room.

Sheila followed Dandy to the room. "I said it feels good to be here," she halted as her voice resounded in the audiovisual room. Inside, the whole place was fully packed. It dawned on her, there were more students aside from the thirteen she met and they heard her loud and clear.

Sheila stood stiff at the door. Dandy ran to a free seat and giggled looking at her. Her lips moved, whispering, "Sorry." Sheila half grinned, feeling embarra.s.sed as she walked to the only empty seat, in front, near the podium. The other students giggled giving off a few soft laughs and made her wish to crouch down under the chair.

The teacher was kind enough to let her sit first before he started.

"Actually, today is a continuation of our topic about preserving food but since we have a new student who newly arrived from the Philippines, I'll give a special lecture about bread. But before that, let us welcome our new student first." He gestured to Sheila to stand up.

Sheila felt like a high school student who newly transferred to a new school and having difficulty introducing herself. She coughed a bit and straightened her spine. "h.e.l.lo, everyone, I'm Sheila Hernandez and I'm here to learn new ways of cooking. I hope enjoyable learning years here. That's all. Thank you."

Before her b.u.t.t could touch the chair, the lecturer spoke. "Can you expound more on why you said it feels good to be here?"

She stood straight again, her heart was beating fast. Her forehead had cold sweats. She coughed again with her hand balled covering her mouth. "I said that statement because I've met good friends who made me feel welcomed. What can I ask more? I'm greatly honored to be here."

"Let's give her a warm of applause." Everyone clapped as she sat. She wiped dry her forehead with her hanky. The man next to her gave out his hand for a shake. "Welcome."

"Thank you." She returned the favor, the man noted her cold hands but only smiled.

The lecturer called her attention. "Sheila, actually you don't need to attend cla.s.s right now. You have three days to rest and acquaint yourself. I believe you're still in a jet lag, so rest for now or you might sleep while I'm lecturing." Giggles resounded in the room again.

Sheila was challenged to stay put but she felt her adrenaline seeped low after her embarra.s.sing state. "I think I'll take your advice." Her strides were fast as she went out. She held her chest and breathed deep. "Whew! That was embarra.s.sing."

. . . . .

Hugh, wore a jumpsuit and an ap.r.o.n, sitting in front of a canva.s.s. His hand held a paintbrush. He closed his eyes and imagine Sheila's face in the airport. He opened his eyes and his hand moved to form a curved line on the canva.s.s. "What a beautiful face but sad. I wish my hand can give justice to that beauty."

. . . . .

In a farmhouse near the culinary school, the man who shook Sheila's hand in the audiovisual room started to draw Sheila's smiling face using a pencil on a drawing book. He closed his eyes and recalled her face without any blemish or makeup. It was lovely to behold, he thought. "Coming here is totally the best I've ever done in my life."

. . . . .

Sheila slept like a log the whole afternoon while her laptop was opened. The monitor reflected the Philippine Culinary a.s.sociation's chat room with her message.

[Shendell: @ChefDeli I'm now in France. Waiting for your reply.]

Unfortunately, the person mentioned didn't reply while he was chatting with the rest online, leaving the message to move to history.