[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
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➳ ARIELLE'S POV
FRIDAY
I awkwardly fiddle with the pencil in my hands. This class has been dragging on forever and the only thing I want to do right now is duck down in my seat until I spontaneously disappear. I begin nervously tapping the eraser end of my pencil on the desk, seeming to annoy the boy who's sitting beside me. I drop it and it falls with a light tap on the tabletop.
When I look up, Chef Wilson is looking in my direction. For an intense minute, we stare at each other, his gaze completely fixated on me. I feel like everyone notices the incredibly awkward moment we share but when I look around the classroom, everyone else is focused on their tests. I look back down at my paper, but I can feel his eyes still on me, almost predatory. Has he always been like this, and I've just never noticed? Or did it suddenly get much worse ever since last week when the confrontation in the restaurant with Zayn happened?
Zayn's words echo in my ears, and I can't help the feeling of uneasiness that washes over me. I can't entirely explain it, but it feels so eerie.
When Monday's class came, I was nervous as hell, knowing that Chef Wilson wanted my answer to his one-on-one lesson, however when I peeked through the window in our classroom door he wasn't there. A note was stuck to the door, stating that class had been cancelled last minute due to his illness.
Come Tuesday's class, I looked through the small rectangular window before entering and a slender woman stood at the front of the classroom. Chef Leanne was with us for both Tuesday's class and Wednesday's class. Out of curiosity, during Tuesday's class I asked where Chef Wilson was, she said she didn't know much, except that he sounded quite ill.
I'll admit, by Wednesday's class, I was rather suspicious. It even occurred to me that perhaps Zayn had done something to him, but the more I thought about it, the less I believed Zayn would do anything to him. Yeah, he was really upset, but I don't think he'd beat up Chef Wilson and potentially affect my academic career because of it.
Before Thursday's class even began, I looked through the window, which had become routine now ever since the awkward encounter between Chef Wilson and Zayn. I instantly saw Chef Wilson scratching at his tattered beard as he eyed some papers on his desk. My heart began racing in my chest and before I knew what was going on, my feet were already carrying me towards the library where I spent the hour.
And then came Friday morning—today. When I stepped up to the door, I saw him immediately distributing papers on everyone's desks. I was tempted to run the other way as fast as possible, but I couldn't. Today was test day and I had no legitimate excuse to miss it. And so, I waited uncomfortably outside of the classroom until I knew that I only had one minute before class began. I quickly headed straight for my desk and sat down, not daring to make a glance in his direction. In fact, I hadn't looked up until two minutes ago, only to find out that he'd been watching me much too carefully.
