Page 40 of Kiln Me Softly

Juniper had stepped out into a crisp day, the sky bright enough she could almost convince herself she was in a good mood.

As long as she didn’t think too hard, she was, though she couldn’t help but check her phone every five minutes in case Aiden texted.

He hadn’t told her too much about Jonathan, but enough for her to know he was a shitty parent.

The mention of him always cast a shadow in their conversations, and she didn’t want that for him.

Nobody deserved it, but especially not him.

As Chris led the group down a shopping street in the city centre, Juniper turned her attention to Tilly.

‘You got home awfully late last night.’ She knew, because she’d gotten home around midnight and Tilly hadn’t been there.

She’d fallen asleep next to an empty bed, the sound of Aiden getting comfortable next door plaguing her through paper thin walls.

She wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to resist if he asked her to kiss him a second time.

The beaming smile on Tilly’s face was a dead giveaway for what had transpired between she and Coco. ‘Well, let’s just say your man did a decent job.’

Juniper tutted bitterly. That poor autumn goddess deserved better, though she’d admit Coco was equally as gorgeous and clearly had made her friend happy. ‘Who knew Aiden had a fully functioning gaydar?’

‘I know. Maybe you should keep him after all.’

She shrugged. ‘Thinking about it.’

Tilly stopped in her tracks, then squealed, much to the alarm of their other classmates. Juniper shushed her, tugging her to one side.

‘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 a Ha ! ‘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 labelled Pride .

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.’

She raised her brows at the compliment. ‘I’m not?’

‘I think you would have liked her exhibit last month,’ Chris insisted. ‘A little darker than your pieces, Coco, but very illustrative. She’s a talented sculptor, indeed.’

Juniper eyed him closely, checking for evidence of sickness or cloning. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Chris?’

‘Good question. I’m disturbed about it, myself. But these things need to be said. Occasionally.’ He patted her head like she was a dog, which felt much more characteristic of him.

Coco laughed, her golden bracelets rattling as she folded her arms. ‘Well, I’d love to see your work, Juniper. Have you considered your career plans?’

‘I’ve barely considered my lunch plans,’ Juniper admitted, overwhelmed at the prospect.

Still, there had been a time before RACA when the idea of selling her jewellery and sculptures alone had brought her unbridled joy.

Of course, people didn’t go to the most prestigious ceramics college in the country just to learn how to sell things on Etsy. She should have been aiming higher now.

But then, why had Chris brought them here otherwise?

‘How did you decide to do this?’ she was eager to ask. ‘Did you study ceramics first?’

Coco shook her head. ‘Nope. It started as a hobby, purely for fun. My friend and I spent the summer before uni doing as many new things as we could, and one of our plans just happened to be throwing at the Potter’s Arms around the corner.

I fell in love with it immediately, ended up booking a few classes, and saved up through my business degree to get my own throwing wheel. ’

Juniper was too awed to so much as blink – and too envious. Coco made the whole thing sound so easy, like pottery had just found her and decided to keep her.

‘How long have you had your business?’

‘Six years, now. I started out by selling on eBay and at local markets, anything I had the time to make, and when that took off, I took out a business loan and managed to get my first shop front. It was a tiny little building most people walked right past, but I managed to find my way here through blood, sweat and tears.’

So it wasn’t just luck, then. Coco had worked hard to get here. It hadn’t been handed to her the way it was for some.

A million thoughts clouded Juniper’s brain.

This was what she’d dreamed of, too, and she didn’t need RACA to do it.

But she did need something. The education, the practice, the workshop.

A few lessons here and there wouldn’t cut it, but she couldn’t afford the tools and materials to learn any other way.

‘You look deep in thought,’ Coco noted. ‘Is it a lot to take in?’

‘I just find it difficult to know where my place is in ceramics sometimes,’ Juniper admitted. ‘I’m not sure I’d have the patience to build a business the way you have, but I’m not finding the academic route any easier, either.’

‘I think it’s natural for an artist to wonder which approach is best. There isn’t always a right answer.’ Coco’s voice was soft. Understanding. ‘You’re allowed to take time to figure it out. By the sounds of it, you have a lot of talent.’

But not a lot of room to explore it. Not without her bursary, and certainly not when she was driving herself towards another burnout.

All she could think about was the contrast between Middleport and here: the traditional versus the abstract.

If she wanted to succeed in academia, and with that competition, it seemed as though she needed to fit into a box.

Yet every instinct in her body screamed to break out of boxes, not crawl into them.

‘Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,’ Juniper said gratefully, avoiding Chris’s assessing gaze.

She drifted away to look around the rest of the shop, fidgeting with the hair tie on her wrist. She wasn’t ready to confront the root of her inner conflict, not yet, telling herself that as much as she’d love a store like this one day, art school had been the dream she’d chased for years.

She couldn’t let it go, at least not without a fight.

A good potter would know how to do both surely: fit the mould, and break out of it. If she could do that for the contest, maybe she’d finally have the resources, the experience, to work out what kind of artist she truly was.

‘Get her number,’ she whispered in Tilly’s ear as she returned to her by a rack of interestingly textured mugs. ‘She’s extremely great, and I want you to marry her.’

Tilly snorted, but her gaze still lingered towards where Coco conversed with Chris and, now, Luc. ‘In the harsh light of day, she’s even more out of my league than I thought.’

‘Shut up. You’re gorgeous, and she clearly thinks so. She keeps looking at you.’

To prove it, Coco’s dark eyes drifted back towards Tilly, causing Tilly to duck and feign interest in a twisted mug handle.

Juniper tutted and decided it was time to reassume wingwoman duties.

By the end of their visit, Coco had Tilly’s number, neither of them having noticed Juniper slipping Tilly’s contact details in Coco’s pocket.

Aiden might have picked the better suitor, but Juniper had made sure to keep them together.

That clearly made her the better friend, and she couldn’t wait to brag about it on the train home – once she heard back from Aiden.

She only hoped he was okay in Manchester.