Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy

At dinner that night, everyone was agog with talk of all the new experiences they’d had, and the fact that a girl had already been expelled and a teacher lost. The food was much, much better than it had been at lunch, and everyone at Amanda’s table was in high spirits.

  A plain, beaky girl with limp dark hair was sitting on the far side of Ivy. “I think it’s bad luck about that girl and that teacher,” she said to no one in particular. “You just wait. Bad things come in threes.”

  “Ha ha ha,” said Simon. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no such thing as bad luck. Or good luck, for that matter. Luck is a human construct.”

  “Is not,” said the girl. “My mum taught me—”

  “Your mum,” said Simon. “You believe everything your mum says?”

  “Yes, actually I do. Why shouldn’t I? She’s older than me. More experienced.”

  “You’re pretty gullible, aren’t you?” said Simon with a bit too much relish.

  “Why are you being so mean to her?” Amanda blurted out. Did I say that?

  Everyone stopped eating and looked at her.

  “I mean . . .” she said.

  “She’s right,” said Ivy, removing her glasses and affecting an icy stare. Despite her blindness, it was most effective. Amanda made a mental note to watch out when Ivy took her glasses off. “Why are you being so mean to her?”

  “I’m not being mean,” said Simon. “She has to face the truth. That’s what this school is all about. Fooling yourself isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He speared three string beans.

  Suddenly Nick was there. “She does need to learn, but you don’t have to be so confrontational about it,” he said looking straight at Simon.

  “Mfglb,” said Simon in mid-bite.

  “Now then,” said Nick, flashing that smile of his. “Are we all friends? What’s your name, darling?”

  “Editta,” said the girl, going all gooey.

  “Well, now, Editta,” said Nick, “if anyone ever gives you any trouble around here, you come to me. I’ll sort them out.”

  The girl was speechless. Red-faced, she looked down at her lap. Nick grinned, winked at Amanda, and walked away.

  “Pretty full of himself, isn’t he?” said Amphora, watching him leave the room.

  “I’ll say,” said Simon, sticking more beans in his mouth and chewing loudly. “Who does he think he is?”

  “He’s an actor,” said Amanda without thinking.

  “What?” All four faces turned to her.

  “I mean, he acts nice to me,” said Amanda.

  “I thought you said . . .” said Ivy.

  “That he was an actor,” said Simon.

  “Oh no, I didn’t say that,” stammered Amanda. “Why would I say that? No, I said he acts nice. That’s all.”

  Simon gave her a skeptical look.

  “What’s for dessert?” said Amanda, looking over at one of the huge sideboards that lined the dining room. “I’m dying for chocolate.” Maybe the prospect of sweets would distract them from her blunder.

  “Me too,” said Ivy.

  “And look. Chocolate cake,” said Amphora, who’d already helped herself to the largest piece and dug in before the others had even got theirs.

  Amanda had been waiting for this ever since she’d left L.A. and her mouth was watering. She cut a large chunk off her wedge and chomped down. “Mfglb,” she said. “It’s sort of good but it tastes a bit, I don’t know, cardboardy.”

  “Tastes fine to me,” said Simon. “You Americans put too much sugar in things.”

  “No, she’s right,” said Ivy, chewing. “It’s a little bland. Oh well. You know how school food is.”

  “You mean it’s going to be like this all the time?” said Amanda. If this place didn’t have proper sweets she’d die.

  “We’re resourceful,” said Amphora. “Let’s go into town and get some real chocolate.” She started to push her chair back.

  “You’re not supposed to leave campus,” said Simon.

  “Maybe we can bribe someone to get something for us,” said Ivy brightly.

  “We can try,” said Amanda. “This will never do.” She put her fork down and pushed her plate away.

  “You’ll get over it,” said Simon.

  Amanda wanted to hit him.