The Boiling Point | ✔️

15 | sobering reality

SUMMER 

My thumb has been hovering over my phone screen for minutes now, my sister's name staring from the other side. It's Monday afternoon and I'm sitting in Craves & Coffee. I came here to avoid going back to the house. Mrs. Villa has stopped with the passive aggressive notes, but I'd still rather not be there. Doesn't matter how much heating is on, she gives the house a chill that no thermostat can take away.

Thankfully, it's almost time to head over to Lola's. We were told about our first test today, so she invited me and Fawn over for a study date. I've been working in my baking sketchbook to kill time. Two lattes and a blueberry muffin later, I stopped. I'd been drawing the first butterfly on a three-layered cake. It reminded me of Ella out of nowhere, when we'd play in the rooftop garden at home as kids, trying to make butterflies land on our fingers like Disney princesses.

I can't bring myself to text her. All my other attempts have been futile, so what's the use? But I have so much to tell her.

I want to tell her about culinary school, about living with the Villas and how strange of a change it's been. I want to tell her how we had our first patisserie class with Chef Ross today, and it was the most excited I've been about cooking since I got here. How we made puff pastry from scratch, and how I can't wait for tomorrow when we'll be making the custard pastry cream to combine it all into slices of mille-feuille.

I want to tell her about Ashton and the mixed feelings around him, ask her if he's a walking red flag or not. I want to tell her how the way he kissed me keeps me up at night. And how boring I've always thought brown eyes are, but now I think they might be my favorite.

I wish I could tell her everything like I used to.

My thumb moves to lock my phone instead, clunking it back on the table. Nothing is the way it used to be. She doesn't want to hear anything from me anymore.

I return to sketching with a heavy heart, sloppily rushing the butterfly so I can move on.

"Hey Summer, cool if I sit?" I look up and meet Charlie's vivid eyes. She helps herself to the seat opposite me before I have time to answer. "I just saw you here and thought I'd ask about my party."

"Your party?" I shut my book and scrape aside the plate of muffin crumbs. "Oh yeah, I think I heard Steven and Grant talking about it."

"So you're coming? I invited everyone from class."

I shift in my seat. I've barely spoken to Charlie before now, but her easygoing demeanor would make any onlooking stranger think I'm having coffee with a close friend. It's a little unnerving.

"I'm not sure if I can."

She heaves out a long breath, tucking her hair behind her ear and revealing the silver piercings that line the curve. They match the stud in her pointed nose. "Let me guess... because of Ashton."

"What? No." I feel my brows dip. "Because I live with a witch of a woman and she might not let me. Why would Ashton stop me from going?"

"The bickering you guys seem to be locked in everyday, it's hard not to notice. I guess I thought you might wanna avoid being around him outside of class. Although..." Her black nails that have been rhythmically tapping on the table stop, a sly smile pulling at her lips. "Maybe all that bickering is actually just foreplay."

My gaze drops to my book, a tense laugh escaping me. "Foreplay implies that the next step is—"

"Screwing."