The Boiling Point | ✔️

13 | a little more

SUMMER

After changing into my uniform in the locker room, I take out Ashton's lighter to give back to him in the kitchen.

I never knew a lighter out of all things could be so beautiful. The front is covered by an intricately engraved koi fish, surrounded by waves and vines. It's pure art. I can't help but wonder about the sentimental value it holds for him.

"Is that Ashton's lighter?"

I didn't notice Charlie watching me from her locker, buttoning up her chef jacket with piqued interest.

"Oh... yeah it is." I enclose it in my hand.

"Why do you have it?" Her accusatory tone makes me feel like I'm being interrogated. She seems to realize this in my tongue-tied silence, loosening up her body language. "Sorry, it's just... I've never seen it with anyone except Ashton before."

"Well Summer's not just anyone, right, Cupcake?" Fawn quips from the bench, pulling her shoe on.

I fight my mouth from curving with little success. Fawn and Lola don't know about the kiss, but when he called me back in the courtyard, I think it was the first time they've heard the nickname.

"Where'd that cute lil' name originate from anyway?" Fawn grins.

"Ugh, not cute. And not important." I turn to close my locker, hiding the pink creeping onto my cheeks. "He just says it to annoy me because he knows I hate it."

"Do you, though?" Lola sings.

"You guys are taking too long. I'll see you in class," I say, rushing to the door as they chuckle.

The weight of Charlie's stare is so heavy it feels like she's burning a bald patch onto the back of my head.

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In the kitchen, Ashton and I make the exchange in the form of a drug-deal-like handshake that I carry out with far less grace than him. He watches me as I tuck the twenty into my apron pocket, shaking his head with a sour smile.

I have to admit; it was fun fake flirting with him at lunch. I can still feel the firmness of his arm muscle under my touch, like it was carved from marble. It made me wonder if he was subtly flexing or if they always felt like that. So warm and strong and... I catch my thoughts from going off on an Ashton Sex Appeal tangent.

Lord knows that's a slippery slope.

"Eggs." Is the first thing Chef Kent says when she walks in the kitchen. She's carrying a big crate full of cartons. "By the time we're done with these, you're never going to want to look at another egg again."

She explains that we're going to spend the next two hours boiling eggs. That's all.

"You're kidding, right?" Ashton says as she passes out the cartons. "Everyone knows how to boil an egg."

"Not as many as you'd think, Mr. Banks." She hands him a dozen. "It's an essential method everyone should know, but tell someone to soft boil an egg, and it'll turn out undercooked or overdone. So get boiling."

Once everyone is ready at their stations, Chef Kent goes through the meticulous process. We have to do each egg individually, let it boil for a specific amount of time, check the consistency when it's done, and repeat until we have enough to compare the runny to the solid. I'm keen to learn anything, but even I know this is going to be tedious.

We light our burners and get started. When I'm on my fourth egg, I set my timer for eight minutes.

"You should lower your heat," Ashton says.