There was a moment of perfect, horrible silence.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark haired girl waving a hand in front of Raven’s face.

  “Woohoo. Earth to Raven? This is ground control, can you hear us?”

  First there was no reaction, then he blinked hard while his gaze never left my eyes. “Are you following me?!”

  I threw my hands in the air, half recovered from the shock. “Me?! You’re the one who followed me! First into my neighbourhood. Then during recess. Now this? What’s next, joining my dentist appointment?!”

  “I’ve been in this class all semester!” he protested, looking at the other two students like they might back him up.

  The pixie girl, still grinning, glanced at Raven and shrugged, leaning casually against the counter.

  “Yeah, he’s not new. Sadly. We’ve been trying to get rid of him for weeks.”

  Then she turned to me and added with a wink,

  “Just kidding. He’s actually quite decent.”

  My mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again.

  Oh no.

  Oh no no no.

  I slowly turned and looked at Raven. Wait… am I the stalker?!

  Raven suddenly burst out laughing, as if my face was an open book. Of course he did. He elbowed the guy with glasses next to him.

  “Hey, Kyle—did you know I’m a stinking stalker?” he joked, holding up both hands like he was surrendering to the police. The girl giggled.

  “And here I thought you were the one that is always being followed,” Kyle replied dryly.

  “She’s a total wildcard,” Raven added casually, now talking to the dark haired as if I weren’t standing right there. Hello? I am standing right here and have ears, in case you didn’t notice!

  “Well, this has been very much amusing. I’m Mollie,” the pixie cut girl finally introduced herself. “And the weird guy over there is Kyle.” She waved her arm across the table to the skinny guy standing on the other side of Raven. “You probably already guessed.”

  I gave her a hesitant smile, still recovering from the emotional ambush. Mollie stepped closer and slung an arm around my shoulder.

  “Glad to have you, newbie! We were missing someone and looks like the spot was just waiting to be filled by you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, a little abashed. “I’m... happy too.”

  Okay, not entirely a lie. Mollie and Kyle seemed cool. But Raven? I couldn’t imagine him cooking. Could he even hold a knife without doing something flashy?

  I’d just talk to Mollie the whole time. Block him out. Easy.

  Super-Miri style.

  “Well, let me tell you something,” Mollie whispered close to my ear, a mischievous glint in her green eyes. “A lot of girls wish they were in a group with Raven. But they’re all too shy. They just stare from a distance. Look, they’re like hyenas!”

  I followed her gaze—and, yep. She wasn’t kidding. Several girls from other tables were sneaking looks at Raven like he was a rare animal at the zoo. What did they even see in him? Okay, sure, he was good-looking. Fine. But there had to be more to life than cheekbones and charm, right?

  “That’s the only reason some of them even signed up for this class,” Mollie added, laughing. “Crazy, huh?”

  “Totally crazy,” I muttered. And lucky me, I’d walked straight into the middle of it.

  At the front of the room, Miss Favour cleared her throat.

  “Alright, chefs—attention, please!” The room hushed.

  “Since we have a new student today, we’re going to keep things simple. We’ll be preparing a mixed spring salad.” She beamed at me. I felt several pairs of eyes swing in my direction—and not all of them were friendly. Some of the girls were giving me dirty looks already. Oh come on. Take my spot, I beg you.

  Miss Favour continued. “You all know where the ingredients are. Feel free to add your preferences into the salad, you know the drill. Have fun cooking!”

  A salad. Thank the culinary gods. At least I probably wouldn’t burn anything.

  A second later Kyle popped up next to me.

  “Miri, come on. Let’s grab ingredients. Rave and Mollie can prep the station,” he said in a bored tone.

  I blinked at him. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

  We walked to the pantry at the far edges of the classroom. Kyle opened the door, revealing a neat array of supplies—vegetables, pasta, jars, spices. It was like the food version of Narnia.

  “What should we grab?” Kyle asked.

  “Salad. For sure.” I picked up the lettuce proudly.

  “Nice. How about cucumbers and tomatoes?” he offered.

  I nodded and pulled them off the shelf. “Do you like onions?” I asked cautiously.

  “Sure. Let’s go wild.” He grabbed the onions and shut the pantry.

  Honestly? Not bad. For a guy, he was surprisingly functional.

  As we turned to go back, he looked over at me. “Mollie was gossiping about the other girls again, wasn’t she?”

  I smirked. “Kinda yes and no. She just told me how they act around Raven.”

  He chuckled, then lowered his voice a little. “Fair enough. Just be careful—once Mollie starts ranting, she does not stop. It’s her favorite hobby.”

  I laughed along. “Thanks for the warning.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  He grinned. “But hey—she’s super loyal once she likes you. And believe me, she already does.”

  That surprised me. It was weirdly nice to hear.

  When we got back to the station, everything else was already laid out—spices, oil, vinegar, bowls, knives. Kyle joined Mollie and together they got started on the lettuce and tomatoes, Raven tackled the onions (good, let him cry), and I took the cucumber.

  That’s when the trouble began.

  I realized I had no idea what to do with a cucumber and I was too proud to ask for help. But, how hard could it be, right?

  First: wash it? Yes, that seemed safe. So I marched over to the sink like a cucumber-washing champion. As I passed, Mollie handed me a peeler with a wink—thank you, Queen of Preparedness. Without her, I probably would’ve tried peeling it with my fingernails.

  But then came the slicing.

  And oh, the slicing was tragic.

  One piece came out paper-thin. The next was thick enough to serve as a doorstop. The next? Slanted and weird, like I’d tried to cut it during an earthquake.

  I scowled at the cucumber. It stared back, mocking me in its green smugness. I hacked off another piece. Nope. Too thick at one end, too thin at the other. A cucu-nightmare.

  I glared at the cucumber like it had personally insulted me. Was smugness contagious to vegetables?

  I muttered under my breath, “How hard is it to cut a straight line?”

  Apparently, for me? Very.

  I adjusted the cucumber, tried to line it up again—and winced as I mangled another slice. Fantastic. I was officially losing a knife fight to a salad ingredient.

  Then—just as I was about to go in for round four—two warm hands slid over mine. I was so focused on my cucumber massacre that I hadn’t noticed any other movements around me.

  I froze.

  Literally froze, like one of those street performers pretending to be a statue.

  His hands were steady, strong, and… way too gentle for a guy who usually had the emotional depth of a smirking billboard. Warm fingers wrapped lightly over mine, guiding the blade without forcing it. Slowly. Carefully.

  Behind me, I felt the heat of his body—close. Way too close.

  I heard him inhale.

  Then he whispered, just above my ear, his breath brushing my hair.

  “I love how hard you’re trying.”

  My heart did this weird flutter thing I pretended not to notice. I forgot how to breathe. I forgot how to cucumber. I even forgot how to English.

  Kill me. Right now.

  He continued, softly, “Let me show you. Finger here…”

  His hand repositioned mine, skin warm against my own.

  “Line it up like this…”

  My pulse was pounding so loud I was sure Kyle and Mollie could hear it from where they cut the tomatoes.

  “And now—slice. See? Smooth, even. Perfect.”

  Perfect?

  Nothing about this situation was perfect!

  Except maybe... him. Which was the problem.

  “Just like that. Good,” he praised.

  He was still behind me, still close. His voice wasn’t teasing or smug like usual—it was low and calm, and it made my neck flush like someone had flipped a switch inside me.

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

  I hated this.

  I hated him.

  Didn’t I?

  Why was I reacting like this? I was supposed to be immune. Super-Miri, Queen of Emotional Walls, sworn enemy of lying boys. But right now, I was standing there, letting him guide my hands like some slow-motion scene in a romantic cooking show.

  I had to break the spell. Had to say something.

  Or push him away.

  Or faint.

  One of those.

  But before I could decide on my next move, he stepped back. Softly, like he knew I needed space.

  “Rave, come here a sec!” Kyle called across the table.

  “I entrust the rest of the cucumber to you,” he said behind me, voice low and warm. “See you later, Wildcard.”

  Then he was gone. I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for three weeks while staring down at the cucumber. My fingers still buzzed from his touch. The slices I’d just made were even. Neat.

  I hated that they looked better.

  I hated that I felt… disappointed he let go.

  What is wrong with me?!

  Why did he make me so nervous?! This was his game. His whole flirty-fake-helpful act. This had to be hormones. Stupid, dumb, traitorous hormones. I was just another girl falling for it. Probably laughing behind my back right now.

  Nope. Not happening. I wasn’t going to be that girl.

  I finished cutting the rest of the cucumber, channeling all my sudden anger (and maybe something else) into each slice. Perfectly even this time.

  Then I dumped the pieces into the bowl—minus the mess—and took a deep breath.

  Mollie stepped up beside me, warm and casual, like she hadn’t witnessed my complete internal collapse. Her arm slipped around my shoulders again, and she leaned in close, just enough for her whisper to cut straight into my ear.

  “Girl, I don’t know what kind of magic spell you’ve got going on… but I swear, Raven never does that.”

  I blinked, my mouth slightly open. “Does what?”

  She pulled back and gave me that I-know-things grin.

  “Touchy-feely cooking lessons,” she said, eyes twinkling. “He doesn’t flirt like that. Not with anyone in this class. Not even the ones who throw themselves at him like raw pie dough.”

  My brain short-circuited again. “It wasn’t flirting,” I said too fast.

  Mollie just raised a perfectly suspicious eyebrow. “Sure. He was just helping a damsel in distress who was fighting a losing battle against cucumber.”

  I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Please don’t make this into a thing.”

  She laughed. “Oh, sweety, it’s already a thing.” Then she winked. “I won’t tell anyone. Scout’s honour. Can’t guarantee it for all the other girls glaring your way. though.” I followed her gaze, which was nonchalantly wandering around the cooking classroom. Yup, I definitely had a target on my back now. Great.

  The boys came back over before I could die of embarrassment, Kyle with a handful of forks and Raven with his usual cool expression—except when his eyes flicked to me, I could feel it.

  I kept my gaze firmly locked on the bowl of salad like it contained the secrets of the universe.

  We served ourselves and sat down to eat. I refused to acknowledge Raven’s existence for the remainder of the meal, choosing instead to chat with Mollie about literally anything else. Unicorns. Global warming. The cucumber economy. I didn't care.

  Kyle and Raven stayed quiet—at least, toward me. I could feel Raven’s presence like a heat source two chairs over, but I didn’t look at him once. Not even when he chuckled at something Kyle said. Not even when he tapped his fork twice against his plate like he was waiting for someone to look.

  Nope. Not today, Satan.

  Eventually, we cleaned up. Miss Favour dismissed us with her usual warmth, and the bell rang not long after. I said goodbye to Mollie and Kyle, since they didn’t have any more classes today. Then I bolted—no, glided dramatically and composedly—out of the classroom.

  Time to burn off this weird emotional energy. Time to get moving.

  Time for parkour.

  I was actually looking forward to it. Finally, something physical. Something that made sense. Something where my muscles did the talking and not… well, whatever that was back there.

  But as I headed down the hallway, a sinking realization struck me.

  Parkour.

  I’d signed up for it. And thanks to Lea’s insight, I knew he would be there as well.

  My pace slowed. I stared at the floor like maybe it would open up and swallow me whole.

  I have to do flips next to Mr. Emotional Blender?

  Seriously, Universe?

  What fresh torture was this?

  This was definitely personal.