Magnetic Attraction

[Chapter Five]

[Chapter Five]

Ember's Point of View

Ashton hooks his arm around my neck and tugs me to his side. A lopsided grin spreads across his chapped pink lips. I don't fight his grip, instead, I bear it.

"Do you think Elias will add to the bruising on your face?" He laughs. "Slayton and I are taking bets. I hope I win."

"Fuck off, Ashton," I grumble.

Ashton removes his arm from around my neck, then shoves me into a bench. My right knee hits the hardwood which almost causes me to lose my balance. I spread my arms out and manage to find my balance.

"Watch it, or you'll have a bruised face too," I angrily shout.

"I'm sure." He chuckles. "See you later, baby."

Ashton blows me a flirty kiss before walking off to his class. I straighten up my clothing before strolling down the pathway.

It only takes me a few minutes to reach the other side of the school where my class is located. The other students are already inside paired up and cooking. I toss my bag onto the ground and quickly walk inside.

The door squeaks which instantly captures my teacher's attention. From her desk located on the other side of the room, she shoots me a disappointed glance before wandering over to greet me.

"Why are you late Mr. Rowin?" she questions.

"I tripped over a bench," I explain. "That, and my other class is a long walk from here."

Her eyes scan over my bruised face which earns me a sympathetic look.

"Please don't make being late a habit." She sighs. "You'll be partnered with Elora Coleston since you two are the lucky last ones."

I look up to see Elora situated at the back of the class slumped behind the cooking bench. I assume she's waiting for me or can't be bothered cooking.

"We're making cupcakes today," the teacher explains.

"Okay, thank you." I nod.

I walk towards the back of the classroom and ignore the odd gazes. Elora glares when she sees me step into the kitchen space.

"What are you doing here? I told the teacher I could work by myself," she grumbles.

"Apparently we're making cupcakes," I say. "If you want to be salty, please do it another time. I actually want good grades in this class."

"Hmm," she mutters.

Elora gets off her stool and begins grabbing utensils from the cupboards while I look at the recipe.

"This should be easy, but." I glance at Elora.

"But?" she snaps. "But what?"

I take the measuring cup from her hand and begin pouring the ingredients into a bowl. The same annoyed expression sticks to her face while she rests beside the bench.