Then my mom said with exasperation, "What now? I have a lot on my mind."
"Just letting you know that I am on my way to school!"
"Okay. Make sure you packed your lunch that François gave you. Love you Bella!"
"Love you too!"
François is our spectacular chef. He is awesome because he speaks French! I mean how cool is that? Anyways, this is a typical morning at the Edwards house. My Dad is usually at the hospital and my Mom is a decorator, a very good one but she has trouble organizing her papers. My mom decorates for fun so she doesn't get paid which is okay because my Dad has the most amazing job in the whole world! He’s a brain surgeon who works at this hospital in...I can't remember. Darn!
I live just a couple of minutes away from school (if I ride my bike). It's called L.A. Prep, and they supposedly have to teach you to be yourself but I can't be because the way that I express myself is through my fabulous clothing.
Like I said before, a couple of days ago I rode my bike to school, like any ordinary day. My best friends, Beth and Sophia, were waiting outside school for me when I arrived. Beth had her usual pink back-pack and her totally fab pink sparkly shoes were on her feet. And Sofia had a bow in her hair and you could tell that her lip-stick was perfectly applied.
We've been best friends since 1st grade. Through the years we've treated each other like sisters. Once in a while we will get sick of each other, but we always have a way to fix it.
That day went by so fast. I think it was because I had a really good breakfast that François made for me and the lunch he packed for me was really good...and filling.
Earlier that week François was acting a little strange. Maybe he remembered something from the past or maybe he was having a mid-life crisis or...maybe girlfriend problems. I'm not quite sure if he has a girlfriend or not. I wouldn't think so because well let’s face it he was a little on the heavy side.
Anyways, I felt kind of sad for him. Luckily while I was riding my bike home from school that day I found a recipe that looked good but I wasn't quite sure what some of the ingredients were.
When I got home from school that day I gave it to François. He looked at me weird and he said," Bella...where did you get this?"
I said with confusion, "I found it on the ground on my way home from school today...is there a problem?"
"No, not at all."
"Okay are you sure?"
"Yup. Actually thanks so much!"
After that conversation I was really confused on what had just happened. I tried to ignore it but it just seemed really weird.
I still wasn’t sure why he was acting weird.
My mom was yelling at me to do my homework. Like I said before I couldn’t concentrate because I had to figure out why in the world he was acting this weird. I did my math homework and then I had a snack. After I was done with my homework François made me and my family dinner which was really good. We had some great steaks from who knows where and other little side dishes.
The next morning I went to school and Beth and Sophia were outside waiting for me. A few of my classes went by wicked fast, but the others went by obnoxiously slow. The school day was finally over. Thank the lord.
When I was on my way home I saw this blue pickup truck sitting outside the school and as I started to leave school his engine went on and as I picked up the pace his car slowly moved in the direction of my home. I went through nice neighborhoods just in case something was to happen but he stopped following me. As I turned the corner to the next street over from my house his car was sitting right in front of me. I thought that maybe he was visiting someone or maybe that was his house. But I swear I have never seen anyone with that type of car around here before.
I soon realized that that wasn’t anyone who was from around here. It had this weird license plate. I was trying to avoid going right past it but I couldn’t. There was no other way besides going all the way around but I didn’t want to. I mean what could this guy do?
When I was just heading past the truck a man got out. I kept riding my bike until he said excuse me.
I replied and said, “Oh, Hello.”
“Can you help me find something?” He said with curiosity.
I said, “No sorry I have to be getting home now. “
He demanded I help him find something. He was tall and thin, unlike François. He did have this weird French mustache which was pretty cool, but there was something fishy about this guy. He was wearing a casual outfit and these beat up boots that looked like they could have come from a dump. Gross!
I decided to help and as soon as I knew it I was in his car with him looking for a recipe. I thought this was really weird but what harm could it do. After a while I said, “Sorry, I can’t find it.”
He said, “Well then where is it?”
I said with fatigue, “I don’t know. I have to go.”
As I was trying to evacuate the car he turned the engine on and the car started to move. I was so nervous about where we were going and I screamed, “HELP!” It didn’t work because I was in his old beat up truck.
There was something about this truck. It smelt really good. I didn’t know what the smell was but whatever it was it smelt home-made or something delicious. I asked where we were going and he didn’t respond. I soon as I looked out the window he has stopped right outside my house and he got out and started walking towards the chef’s entrance. When he left the car I called my mom and the police.
It turned out that my mom and dad were at the police office and they had requested that there be police vehicles around the neighborhood.
A couple of minutes later the police and my parents showed up at my house and ran into the kitchen and found me with François and this weird mustache/chef guy that was the one that captured me. François and the other guy were arguing about something, but I couldn’t tell what they were disputing because they were mumbling in French. I did always regret not taking French.
Anyways the police stopped the fight and told them to talk in English so that we could help. My parents were squeezing me so tight that I thought my guts were going to come out. They were so happy to see me. I guess I was happy to see them too.
The police finally figured out what they were arguing about. I guess they went to school together for cooking and François found a recipe on the floor and took it not knowing who it belonged to and he’s had it since. François just now figured out that it belonged to Paul the guy that took me into his car to look for the recipe. Paul’s grandmother made that recipe a long time ago and it was very sacramental to the family.
The police said that François had to hand it over and he did, but he had already memorized it. Once in awhile we would have that dinner but it reminded us too much of Paul.
A couple of days later my mom said to me, “Never ever talk to anymore French chefs besides François. You never know what the deal is with them.”
All I did was laugh.
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