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She remained in her seat while the others prepared to leave. Beside her, Aiden’s waft of spiced, woodsy cologne was a welcome change from the Lynx deodorant of high school’s past, but that was about theonlything she welcomed.

He glanced at her, eyes narrowing. His lashes were unfairly long; she’d forgotten that. Then again, everything about him was unfair. Smooth olive skin, high cheekbones. Why was he here? He’d never bothered with anything but painting before,would walk around school with acrylic staining his hands and white shirt.She’dbeen the sculptor, the one to venture out of the box, only to be told that, while ‘ambitious’, the darker undertones of her artwork just didn’t quite ‘land’.

Now, his fingernails were bitten down and stained by ink, though she hadn’t seen him jot a single word. She allowed herself another glower, just as a treat, and then turned back to the front of the classroom. On the walls around the whiteboard, tools hung. She’d like to use one of the pointy ones on him if he got too close to her again.

‘Are you really not going to talk to me, Juni?’ When her scowl deepened, he added, ‘Per?’ Puzzlement laced his voice. That was new. Usually, his confidence masked any of that. He had fooled the entire school into thinking he was the most knowledgeable, self-assured boy to exist.

‘Nope,’ was her curt reply.

He rubbed his jaw, then seemed to remember who he was. Unfazed once more, he shucked on his black denim jacket and said, ‘‘Kay. If that’s what you want.’

‘It is.’

‘Good.’

‘Verygood,’ she bit out. Why was he still talking to her at all? She wanted to shoo him away as the classroom emptied, but thankfully, he seemed to get the message.Unthankfully, he slung on a shiny brown satchel that made him look more like a professor than theactualprofessor. Juniper couldn’t help but take it as an insult, a show of his money, like he wanted to be sure to shove it in everyone’s face.

Then again, most of the students here were well-dressed, with branded clothes and bags, some even designer. Like always, she was the outlier.

She was sure it wouldn’t be long until Aiden started pointing it out.

For now, he just muttered, ‘Yep. Still a nutter,’ then disappeared into the corridor.

Christopher – he had told them to call him Chris, but Juniper didn’t really feel like she deserved to, yet – had his back turned as he shut his laptop and packed up his work.

On shaky legs, Juniper stood and cleared her throat.

‘No,’ he said, pushing his round glasses up his nose.

She huffed in exasperation. ‘You don’t even know what I’m going to say!’

‘And I don’t particularly wish to.’

She deflated, realising that any hope of making things right was clearly a delusion. Did he treat all his students like this, or was she just that talented at making enemies out of authority figures?

She began to play with one of her dragon-shaped earrings nervously. As her first foray into sculpting, they looked more like worms, but she’d worn them today as a symbol of how far she’d come since discovering her love of clay. A good luck charm.

Fat lot of difference they’d made.

Since Christopher wasn’t giving her the time of day, her defences began to rise like a hard slab of metal in her chest. ‘Look, I get it. I made a bad first impression.’ Which was a common habit of hers, but she didn’t mention that. ‘But so did you,really. You were quite rude, and very unwelcoming to a new student like myself!’

‘Contrary to popular belief, Jupiter—’

‘Juniper.’

He ignored her correction, finally whirling around on his brown brogues. ‘—I’m not here to be pleasant. I don’t actually care about what happens outside this classroom. My problem is your disruptiveness within it. Whatever strange thing is going on with you and Alex—’

‘Aiden.’

‘—is to be left in the corridor. I’m sure you’re used to being a quirky little Zoomer,’ Juniper wrinkled her nose. What did that even mean? ‘But in these walls, you’re a student, and you’re here to listen and learn.’ He stepped forward. ‘My advice to you, Jupiter, is to shush a bit.’

Juniper’s face burned. How many times could this man humiliate her in one day?

Before she could respond, his mouth curled into a smile and he cupped one of his ears with his hand in a show of listening. ‘That’s what I like to hear. Quiet.’ Then, he took his laptop bag and sauntered out of the classroom, not before calling over his shoulder: ‘See you in throwing class!’

Juniper skulked out of the Whiteread Building, half-tempted to call her mum just to hear a friendly voice, but she already knew what she’d say: that she should come home, that she needed a stable job, not something that would only leave her bankrupt and disheartened in the long run.Neither of her parents understood her love of art. Mum packaged orders in a textile factory and Dad was a truck driver. Juniper got it. They were steady jobs, they made ends meet, they were careers most people of their generation had been encouraged to chase, and with Juniper’s recent ADHD diagnosis, they were certain a consistent nine-to-five job would benefit her. Of course, it usually did the opposite. Working fulltime over her gap years had left her in a burnout she was still recovering from.

Juniper didn’t need monotonous eight-hour shifts. She needed passion. Otherwise, what was the point?