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‘But I can’t!’ she added quickly.

That soon dulled her spirit. ‘Juni, I love you, and I get you, but maybe you should let this money thing with him go. He has it, you don’t. It doesn’t make you Romeo and Juliet! Maybe he’d even be able to help you with your tuition fees.’

She could feel her face take on a life of its own, mirroring the iciness under her skin. Maybe the gap between she and Aiden was knitting shut, one thread at a time, but she couldn’t make a life with somebody who took their privilege for granted. She just couldn’t. She wanted to be understood, especially when it came to her struggles, and he had proved time and again that he couldn’t provide that.

‘I can’t talk about it anymore.’

Tilly grabbed her shoulders. ‘He makes you happy. I just want to see you happy.’

‘You know what makes me happy?’ Chris interrupted. ‘Not having to hear about everybody’s sad little love lives.’ He stopped outside a brightly decorated shop front with a pink awning and painted pottery filling the window. Juniper was instantly pulled in by the pieces, enamoured by the abstract sculptures and vibrant glazes.Whoever had made these didn’t cater to the same traditional styles as the potters of Middleport, nor the past contest entrants she’d researched.

She looked at the huge golden sign above the window and let out aHa! ‘Cococeramics! Wouldn’t it be funny if her name was Coco, too? Or, even better, if it was—’

The shop’s door swung open, and Tilly’s jaw dropped. Juniper could do nothing but stifle her laughter behind a gloved hand as Coco waved at them all. ‘Good morning, everyone! Thank you for coming today. I’m…’

She trailed off when her focus snagged on Tilly, whose face was now the colour of beetroot. She dipped her chin into her scarf in an attempt to hide, but judging by Coco’s smirk, it was too late.

‘I’m Coco,’ she finished. ‘I’m a local potter. I’d love for you to come inside.’

‘I bet she said that to you last night as well,’ Juniper jested.

‘Very funny, but you know that’s not how it works,’ Tilly ground out.

‘I know. Just had to. Didn’t she tell you she was a potter?’ whispered Juniper.

‘We never quite got round to that, honestly. We were busy with… other things.’

Well, this was going to be interesting.

‘Tilly, you might have snogged the most talented potter in Stoke-on-Trent,’ Juniper decided as they drank in the vast,open shop space. There wasn’t one corner without a splash of colour, every vessel and sculpture different from the last so that anybody could tell it had been formed by hand, the intentional imperfections making the pieces all the more special.

‘We did a bit more than snog.’ Tilly looked just as stunned. She kept at the back of the group as though Coco might forget she was there if she hid well enough.

To be fair, the others were vying for her attention, especially Tom. ‘Looks like someone broke your jug,’ he said, pointing to a gash that revealed layered pinks and blues beneath. Of course someone like him wouldn’t get it. His work was neat, monochrome, perfect for people who valued style over substance.

As Coco politely explained the reason behind her choice, Juniper gravitated towards a selection on the back wall labelledPride. Rainbows decorated each pot, some traditional colours and others matching LGBTQ+ flags. Juniper squatted to admire a pink, yellow, and blue plant pot, the colours of her pansexual flag. The glaze had been applied with a dripping method, blues smeared like a sunset melting into an ocean. She’d seen nothing so bold and bright since her studies at RACA had begun. Self-expression in professional pottery seemed to be much more contained, as though too much of it was considered something Other, a bit like her mythological monsters. A bit like her, if she was being honest. She’d never fit into academic spaces, not at high school and certainly not now, and her financial troubles only seemed to prove that to her.

But in this shop, she felt at home.

‘I’m glad this collection has called to someone,’ a voice said. Juniper straightened to find Coco at her side, a serene smile on her face.The others milled around the shop, Tom still murmuring something that was probably belittling about Coco’s works. Tilly was tailing Christopher, using his short, broad form as an ineffective hiding spot.

‘If I had a place of my own, and y’know, money, I think I’d have bought every single piece by now,’ admitted Juniper.

Coco hummed. ‘It only occurred to me a few years ago, when I was a vendor at the local Pride festival, that I was allowed to express this part of myself in my ceramics. That maybe people wanted –needed– to see it. We put a lot of ourselves in these flags, after all. Sometimes, they’re the only places where we feel like we belong.’

Juniper’s eyes prickled. She was lucky that her sexuality had never been a problem to the people around her, but she knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. Before she’d learned about pansexuality, she’d spent a long time wondering why no other label seemed to fit her, why her sexuality didn’t feel black and white, straight or gay, or even bi. And then that one word had clicked everything into place, providing her with an understanding of herself she might not have had otherwise.

‘I’m really sorry about last night, by the way,’ Juniper said to Coco sheepishly. Clearly, the autumnal goddess had been completely wrong for Tilly. This woman, on the other hand, might just be perfect. Damn Aiden and his wingman talents. ‘I got a bit competitive.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Coco’s lips twitched, and Juniper took it as forgiveness. Coco turned on her heel, scanning the store. When they both caught a wave of Tilly’s crocheted scarf, she shook her head.‘Obviously, I didn’t know you lot were students. No wingman today?’

‘He’s busy. With a migraine,’ she added quickly when she felt Chris’s presence close behind them.

‘Ah, yes, a pesky migraine.’ Chris’s hands locked behind his back as he joined them at the Pride display. ‘Stunning work, Coco. Thank you again for letting my uncultured scamps invade your space.’

‘A pleasure. I don’t think some of them quite like it, mind.’

‘Well, some of them wouldn’t understand stylistic intention if it whacked them in the face. Thankfully, Juniper here is not one of them.’