Awkward

/SAME OLD/

~/•/~

When I first came to Redwood, Mum said I must learn how to cook. Six months later, I still don't see why. And her excuse hasn't changed either: "Roman, the house helpers can't do everything. They're humans too." And now here I am, stirring chocolate I won't even get to eat.

I'm getting the hang of this stirring stuff when Mrs. V steps by my countertop, dips her saggy finger in my mix and tastes it. The way her face tenses, crumpling in pain as she swallows makes me want to leave. I don't even like this class.

She raises an arm to my shoulder.
"You'll get better, pet." Then she dances off like she's on rollerblades.

I pick up my spoon, dip it in the mix and lick it clean.

It isn't that bad. I mean, it could use some pizazz but that's all. I just add a little more cacao stuff, a lot more syrup and voila— better, I think.
Off judging someone else, she's none the wiser.

She better watch out. I might just decide to pass her class.

~/•/

/LUNCH/

A junior girl and her friend set their plates down at my table, piquing my valuable curiosity. They stay on their feet with both hands clutching their plates.

Good.

"Hiiiii, Romannn," they giggle together. "Can we sit with youuu?"

I ponder wisely.
And right at the moment they are about to back out, I raise my fork and nod, wisely. They giggle and goggle and guggle as they sit down, disturbing my tranquil solitude. One of the two actually slides her plate right across and snuggles up next to me.

"Sooo... Romannn..." One of them starts, baring her teeth at her bold friend instead of looking at me. "We — I... were-was wondering if you had a Valeentinnee this year, cause.. you know... me neither haha!!" Both of them burst into the most annoying fake laughs I've ever heard.

Their asynchronous laughter tells me that they have Valentines. They must be mocking me.

"Yeah," I say. And all of a sudden they stop like I said something murderous.

"Who—oh— who's your Valentine?" The one across asks, edging closer. The girl beside me stands and slides her plate across. "Mimi!—"

"Lea, no! WHO'S your Valenti—"

—"Forgive my friend!" Walking over to the other side, she grips her friend's shoulder and drags her off. "She's just.. a.. a huge.. uh.. friend."

Huh?

"LEA LET GO!! I WANNA KNOW WHO HIS VAL—"
—"Bye Roman! Bye!!"

And just like that they're off, leaving me to keep their food company.

Strange.

If this was all a plan to make me take their plates I swear I—

The 'cool table' erupts in laughter. I look over at them, having to squint because it's so far into the corner of the dining hall. Alastair's over there - he's even sitting next to Julianna. There are a few sixth formers, Callum included; Fergus is perched with his girlfriend, Peter too, a few others — there's obviously no way of me knowing what's going on.

I don't care.

One of the girls from earlier comes back to get their plates but then pauses, which I assume is her way of asking if she can sit with me. I hiss at her and she scrams.

Girls have cooties.

Looking back at the elites though, Ava isn't there. She probably hasn't come to lunch.