Page 7
Story: Kiln Me Softly
Now that she was here, it was all beginning to feel real, and she itched to get started like her favourite contestants… although she also felt slightly daunted. After all, she didn’t have a supportive mentor to aid her, and she was sure Aiden was just waiting for her to screw up.
‘And to smooth out the clay,’ added Aiden, stealing her limelight and proving her right.
‘Right again, Alex,’ Christopher said.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from insulting Aiden – or Christopher – again. Was she bloody invisible?
Didn’t matter, because she was finally allowed to touch the clay as Christopher guided them through a few different wedging techniques. Determination gripped her muscles as she kneaded. She’d show them that she had more talent in her pinkie finger than Aiden Whittaker had in his whole sickeningly athletic body.
She’d missed the feeling of something smooth and strong in her hands and took to the exercises quickly, having already mastered a few before. In fact, as she pounded the clay into submission, arms already aching, she imagined it was Aiden’s face and found it even more effective.
Christopher raised a brow as he sauntered past Juniper’s desk. ‘Interestingly aggressive approach, Jupiter. Have you considered taking up boxing?’
Juniper suppressed a grin. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think it was a compliment, or at least a roundabout way of one.
‘Okay, gang, let’s move on. Cut your clay, give it a weigh, and then it’s time to… thray.’
Some of the students chuckled at his attempt at a rhyme, though Christopher’s face remained as indifferent as ever.
‘I think boxing would be a good idea, Hodge,’ Aiden commented once their tutor had returned to the front, turning to her only as he moved his clay onto the wheel. ‘Seems like you need a release for all that pent-up anger.’
‘I’m not angry.’ She threw her own clay onto the wheel, adjusting her stool to make sure she wasn’t stooping too low to reach it. ‘And stop calling me that.’
With her last name being Hodgson, and having been rather podgy – something she still was but now liked about herself – many of her high school classmates had taken to calling herHodge Podge.She couldn’t remember if Aiden had been one of them, or if he’d always used the shortened down version, but it still felt too much like the old taunt. They may not have been in high school anymore, but she hated the reminder of who she’d been there. A joke. An outcast. Alone.
‘You could’ve fooled me.’ Oblivious, he kept his body angled towards her, which only enraged her more. Couldn’t he at least mind his own bloody business? ‘You need to wipe down your wheel first. Clay won’t stick if it’s too dry.’
Nope. Nope, he could not.
‘I know how to throw, thank you very much.’ She had, after all, done this a grand total of three times.
Still, he might have been just ateensybit right, so she used a sponge to dampen the wheel before repositioning her clay. Again, the corner of his mouth tugged smugly.
When she noticed Tilly watching them, she pondered aloud, ‘How much damage do you think the wire cutters might do if one was to, say, strangle someone with them?’
Of course, it probably wasn’t wise to joke about violent acts with a friend she’d quite like to keep, so she was grateful when Tilly’s eyes sparked with amusement instead of concern. ‘I’d be interested to find out myself. I do, after all, support women’s wrongs.’
Aiden reared back. ‘I feel bullied. What did I ever do to you?’
Tilly shrugged. ‘I’m sure you didsomethingto deserve it.’
You have no idea.Juniper didn’t want to think about it anymore, or ever again, which was difficult considering he was barely a foot away. Still, she tried to focus on centring her clay on the wheel, stomping down on the foot pedal to turn it.
‘Shit!’ she hissed when the clay began to spin a little too wildly.
‘Go easy on the pedal, Hodge,’ Aiden advised. Yes, she was definitely interested in finding an answer to her wire cutter question.
‘Ah, yes,’ Tilly murmured just loud enough for Juniper to hear. ‘Definitely deserves it.’
Well, at least Tilly didn’t think she was bonkers. She lightened her pressure on the pedal, no mean feat considering ire had locked every bone in her body.
‘I’m sure some of you obnoxiously talented folks would love to show off your throwing skills,’ said Christopher, ‘but for the sake of this being an introduction workshop, let’s start with the basics. A cylindrical vase. Follow my lead.’
He worked effortlessly, drawing the clay into a cone shape before encouraging it back down into a smooth lump. From there, it seemed to happen by magic. One moment, it was nothing. The next, Christopher was using the pressure of his thumbs to drag up a smooth barrel, offering a few tips and tricks as he did.
He might have been an awful tutor, but he was a great potter.
Eager to get stuck in, Juniper worked her pedal, finally getting the clay a little more centred. The classroom soon dissolved into a whirl of creation, each student engrossed in their own project. She wished she could master the same concentration, but her gaze kept falling to Aiden.
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