The Student Council | Ray

Cookies

(y/n)'s pov

After receiving that poem from Ray, I thought of writing another one for him but scrapped that idea and just gave him a letter of apology. I slipped it into his locker and went on with my day.

When school ended, before I went to the council room, I decided to go to the library to check out some novels. As I was dragging my finger along the thin spines, I bumped into Norman.

"Oh hey, (y/n)," he said quietly. I waved.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered curiously. He shrugged.

"Just borrowing some encyclopedias," he answered. "You?"

"I'm just getting new books to read," I replied. I really should be leaving now since our meeting is supposed to start soon. I quickly excused myself and ran to the council room.

Emma and (f/n) were there. They were holding a box of freshly baked cookies.

"Cookies," Emma said, showing it. "You want to try some?"

I nodded. "Sure."

She gave me a cookie and I inspected the anatomy of it. It was golden brown on the top, and the sides were perfectly crisped. I noticed there were chunks instead of chips, too.

I tasted it. Woah. That was like a wake-up call. It just exploded in my mouth. The flavor of the brown sugar immaculately marries with the bittersweet taste of the chocolate.

I ate delicately before wiping my mouth. "It's good. Really good."

"I know right?" Emma said. "Ray always bakes the best stuff."

I instantly perked up. "Wait, so you're saying, that Ray made these?"

"Mhm," I heard someone say behind me.

I turned around. It was Ray of course and he leaned on the side of the left door. "Culinary knowledge is my hidden talent," he said.

"Yeah, so he usually brings something he cooked or baked to school events or for no reason," (f/n) said standing up. Norman came as well and Emma offered him a cookie.

"How'd you start baking?" I asked him. Things were still a little awkward because of our little fight earlier, so I wanted to loosen things up a bit.

"Well I actually started with cooking and my mother showed me when I was younger," he answered. "Ever since, I just taught myself."

It went a little quiet after that. "Oh, I see," I replied. I walked to my seat. Both of us didn't want to refer to this morning and I was perfectly fine with that.

The rest of our sophomore year went pleasantly. There were a few mishaps, such as when Ray was accused of dating someone and we all pestered who when it was actually just a rumor.

Or when we all thought Norman and Emma were an item. They said they weren't, though, but we were not convinced yet.

Ray, (f/n), and I secretly created a society where we believed that they were dating. We haven't told the two of them, and we're currently creating plans.

I still don't like Ray, even if he's kind of a good poetic writer. He likes teasing me over my interests, how I look, and it's annoying.

And with (f/n), she strangely started thinking that Ray and I look good together for no reason. Like she ships us and says she won't stop until he miraculously becomes my boyfriend. She'll be shipping us until she dies at this point because we'll never become a thing.

Sophomore year was one of my greatest changes. From the beginning of the year, I just thought they were a couple of academically smart weirdos. But in reality, they were just really close friends who care so much about each other.

I'm glad (f/n) convinced me to join the student council. Next year we'll be juniors, and who knows how that's going to be like?

Few weeks later

Norman won the election again, and here we were once more in the council room. Ray was the same as ever, a jerk who has a sweet side when he's not being a bother. Even though he became slightly tolerable, I still would never give him a life vest if we were on the Titanic.

My sister's 18th birthday is coming up, so (f/n) helped me pick a really pretty dress. I invited Emma to come, but she wasn't available that day so only (f/n) will be attending.

Time skip to the party

My family and relatives were the first ones here, so I waited by the door for (f/n). However, even after fifteen minutes, she hasn't arrived.

(f/n) is usually always on time. I thought.