Finding Obsidian

06 - The Verdict

On the way back, a thought suddenly hit me. "Wait, Rian," I called, panicked. "Did you actually just leave the ratatouille on the stove to burn?"

His expression darkened. "No," he said coldly. "I left it in the hands of your friend. Rokim, I think it was."

"Oh, good," I sighed in relief. "Rokim is a great cook, he'll handle it." Rian muttered something under his breath, but I was too caught up in my own excitement to catch what it was. I glanced at him, a wicked grin spreading over my face. 

 "But seriously, those guys really won't know what hit 'em! Who knew my first protégé would be such a natural?"

"I'm not your protégé." Rian said icily. He turned away from me, but if I didn't know better, I would have sworn the tips of his ears went the slightest bit pink.

We returned to our class. Upon entering, I quickly hid my bandaged hand in my apron pocket and followed Rian inside. No need to cause unnecessary concern, after all.

"Hanna!" Rokim's voice boomed through the whole room. I winced; I could only imagine how much his arm hurt after stirring carefully for that long. 

"Where have you been? I've been covering for you guys forever!"

"Sorry, sorry!" I smiled apologetically at him. "Bathroom break." I watched as Rian, stoic as ever, reclaimed his position. He seamlessly continued where Rokim left off without missing a beat. I felt a strange sense of pride watching him.

Rokim's eyes narrowed. "Wait," he said, jolting me back to the present. "You . . . went to the bathroom?"

"Yeah," I responded, confused.

"With him? Together?"

"Uhh . . ." I stammered. "O-of course not! I guess he just happened to go when I did. Call of nature, and all that." 

Rokim still looked suspicious, but he seemed to let it go. I quickly went back over to my station, eager to let everyone try the ratatouille we had made. I grabbed a spoon, gesturing for Rian to turn off the stove. I inhaled the aroma first, then tasted it. After a minute, I gave it a nod of approval. "Let's serve it now," I told Rian. "Grab some plates from the cabinet."

Within minutes, everyone had a plate of ratatouille hotpot—mash potatoes as a base, with the ratatouille in a layered arrangement on top. Lisa caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up. "Smells great!" she mouthed. I smiled; when you were a chef, good food was half about the aroma, after all.

"All right, let's see what our newest recruit can do," Prof announced, lifting his fork. He sliced through the ratatouille, bringing a portion to his lips. Everyone else did the same, and I watched alongside Rian as they all took a bite. I felt the tingle of butterflies in my stomach, but of course Rian looked completely unaffected, his arms crossed in nonchalant arrogance. 

Prof chewed for a moment before swallowing. He had a thoughtful look on his face, which only made me more anxious, but I made sure not to show it. Strangely, I felt compelled to display some sort of confidence in Rian, despite myself.

"So?" I asked Prof. "What's the verdict?" 

Prof still didn't say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Rian's finger tapping on his arm. I smothered a smile—he was as impatient to know as I was. 

Finally, Prof opened his mouth to speak. Dropping his fork on his plate with a clatter, he looked up at me. I held my breath, leaning forward slightly.

"It's—"

"It's awesome!" Lisa interrupted loudly. She grinned widely at me, holding her fork. "Seriously, how the hell did you teach a total newbie how to make this?"