Page 5

Tilly brightened once more, quick to hop up off the bench. ‘Let’s do it!’

See? Juniper thought. She wasn’t so bad at this being-a-person business after all.

Hamsters, mean professors, and old classmates aside.

3

‘Okay, people. Welcome to the throwing room,’ Christopher announced on a sigh, as though already bored of his students’ presence.

Aiden fought not to roll his eyes. He’d had a lot of different art teachers over the years: the encouraging Mrs. Parks, then his chaotically unprepared sixth-form teacher, Hassan, and up until January of this year, Jennifer at Elmington, whose stern attitude and dull lectures had at least partly contributed to him dropping out midway through the course.

None of them had ever been so utterly uninterested in their own career as Chris. Aiden had done his research. He knew that this tutor was one of the most experienced ceramics teachers in England and had looked forward to the top-class education. So why on earth didn’t he give two shits about leaving a decent impression on his students?

He shared a flat look with one of his new classmates, a nineteen-year-old international student named Luc who probably already longed to return to France. They had already asked Aiden over an awkwardly quiet lunch in the library’s small café if all British tutors were so ‘dour’.

No. No, they weren’t. Just his last two.

Not that it mattered, currently. He was more focused on the woman directly in front of him. Juniper seemed to have made a friend, too, and gained some of her old confidence, because she was no longer hunched in on herself as she exchanged whispers with the dark-haired, brightly dressed girl. When she listened to Christopher, her chin tilted high.

Aiden suppressed a smile. He’d been right earlier: she hadn’t changed a bit in the fact that she was ever-changing. Some days, she’d been quiet and reserved. Others, fierce and quick to anger. Beyond that, she was even prettier than he remembered, complexion fair and quick to redden, with a triangular formation of beauty spots pointing from her jaw to her earlobe. Only now, her septum was pierced with a golden hoop and her dark eyeliner framed her amber-brown irises. Still as curious as a Munch painting, requiring a second, third, fourth look that usually came with a new interpretation each time, partly because of her beauty and partly because emotions seemed to pass over her face as constantly as trains whistling in and out of a busy station. The last time he’d seen her must have been at sixth-form college two years ago, but their paths had barely crossed in such a large building. They hadn’t shared a classroom for much longer, not since high school.

‘Excited to get your hands dirty, Hodge?’ he couldn’t help but remark when she began bouncing on the balls of her feet. One thing that remained consistent? Her restless energy. He’d forgotten that part of her, remembering her more as the bright-eyed teenager with wild brown-gold curls framing her face and an unwavering focus on her artwork. Sometimes she hadn’t heard the bell ring at the end of class and Mrs.Parks had snapped at her to go to lunch with the others. But then he’d seen her in other lessons: doodling in English Lit, tapping her knuckles against the desk in Spanish, a vacancy glazing her round, pretty features.

Maybe that was why he’d always tried to engage with her: he liked challenges. It had never worked, though. The only thing she ever seemed to keep close was a paintbrush, and his friends had loved to tease her for being so different. For not fitting in. She’d been dubbed one of the weirdos, a loner, someone his mates stayed clear of, but then, they’d never been good judges of character.

Now, he was settling into old habits, and he couldn’t help himself. She’d tugged him in with her fierce attitude and unreasonable hatred. Whydidshe hate him?

At his question, she sent a glare over her shoulder. ‘Oh, good. You’re still here.’

‘I don’t plan on going anywhere.’ He leaned closer, feeling a heavy heat where her shoulder brushed his chest. ‘Y’know, there’s something I just don’t get.’

‘How to take a hint?’ she snapped.

Beside her, her friend stifled a laugh. He almost did, too. He didn’t mind giving her an opportunity to bite at his expense. He quite liked to be on the receiving end of it. It had been a long time since he’d been treated like a human rather than a prop made to be moulded to everybody else’s standards. She didn’t handle him with subtle, light touches like the others. She poked and prodded, and he felt it with every word.

Before he could respond, Chris sent a sharp gaze their way, and Aiden clamped his mouth closed as he leaned away from Juniper. He’d rather not get on his bad side, if the way he’d treated her this morning was anything to go by. No, he could do without failing a second time.

The professor continued to explain the principles of the workshop with lazy gestures towards the different equipment and facilities, which Aiden only now paid attention to.

He’d spent enough time practising in pottery studios over the summer to know his way around. Each of them would have their own wheel and desk space, the likes of which were set up in two rows of eight. Drawers and cupboards of tools filled the worktop areas along the back wall, and adjacent was the drying room. The kiln process went way over his head, but he was certain he’d learn on the job, as he always did.

‘Eek,’ Juniper’s friend let out quietly, drawing closer to be heard. ‘It’s likeThe Great Pottery Throw Down.’

Aiden had never watched it, so he wouldn’t know. Luc, too, only offered a confused glance. With an emerald-green buzzcut and a bright pink jumper, they were one of the more noticeable students in the class, aside from Juniper, although much quieter when it came to conversation.

‘Is it just me,’ they said now in Aiden’s ear, ‘or is Juniper’s meanness quite badass?’

‘Just you,’ Aiden lied, and judging by the sniff she emitted, he was certain Juniper had heard. He was afraid to say that Juniper wasn’t only badass, but also more gorgeous than ever. She’d always been chubby – one of the other reasons their classmates had teased her, which he’d thought absurd – but to him her body was a perfect combination of delicate arches and supple curves.She wore black dungarees over a striped T-shirt that tapered in at the waist, accentuating her devastating fullness, especially at her hips.

‘Why doesn’t she like you, anyway?’ asked Luc.

Aiden raised a brow. ‘Think it’s just a hobby of hers. To not like people, I mean. We were in the same year at school.’ Otherwise, he had no clue. Sure, they’d never been the best of friends. He’d been… popular, and she’d been… well, not. A few of his mates thought they were clever for picking on outcasts like her, so he could see how being associated with them might have been an issue. But they were adults now. Holding a grudge for something he barely even remembered was ridiculous. And besides, she’d never been fazed by the things most teenagers were, had never fought to fit in the way most people did. The wayhedid. Between that and her talent, he’d been glad to share a few lessons with her, her presence leaving him curious and maybe a little bit fond.

‘Ohhh, so you already know each other,’ deduced Luc with a hint of curiosity.

‘Yup.’ As much as he wanted to drop the subject and let her harbour her inexplicable bitterness to avoid any confrontation, a gnawing feeling had stretched inside him all morning. He wanted to know why. Sort of deserved to know, really, if they were going to be spending a lot of time together over the coming three years.

‘Anyway, I’m bored of talking now.’ Chris clapped his hands together, breaking Aiden out of his thoughts. ‘The best way to learn is to just do it. Be warned: the pottery wheel isn’t for the faint of heart.Some of you will go home and cry into your pillow tonight, and that is the beauty of it.’ He flashed a grin that seemed to be aimed at Juniper. ‘It weeds out the weak.’