The assignment

For the rest of that lesson, Tyrone never showed up to class, leaving Ms. Wilson to nervously eye the door and look absently at his empty seat. That being said, during Food & Nut. Once more, right before lunch, I made sure to go to class early, so I was shocked to see Tyrone dozing off in his normal seat. He was ignored by the rest of the class, who were talking loudly while they waited for the bell to sound.

I walked carefully over to my seat and stared at Tyrone's face while he slept; his big lips had vanished from the deep pout he usually maintained. The door to the classroom flew open as I was sinking into my chair, and Ms. Wilson barged in, telling the students to stop talking while they slid into their seats. I saw her brows slightly furrow as her steel-grey eyes searched the classroom, finally settling on Tyrone's sleeping body. The rumors of Tyrone's departure must have spread like wildfire across the school before one of the professors told her about his situation.

He had acted far worse against teachers in the past, so I wasn't sure why this was such a huge deal. He'd turned into a complete nutjob over the last year and a half, doing whatever he felt like.

The class cheered and enthusiastic discussion suddenly filled the room as the teacher said, "Right class, we've got just under an hour to start brainstorming the origin of the most popular cake recipes, and starting from tomorrow we'll begin the practical lessons." She stopped talking, but the commotion persisted. "-so I need you to be quiet for me to group you into pairs," she said. "Silence George! Victoria spit that gum out of your mouth!"

My eyes strayed to Victoria's flawless waist-length hair. She twisted around in her seat, and I nearly sprang out of mine, a little jealous of how straight it was. Her dark eyes flashed to mine with disgust, then back to Tyrone for a moment.

"As I was saying, I will set you an assignment which will count for sixty percent of your final grade. The assignment is to create your unique cake recipe - a recipe that combines at least three flavors of your choice, for example: chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. And by Christmas, I want you to bake this brand new masterpiece for the entire class to taste - you'll have all six lessons each week to master your cake baking."

While Ms. Wilson was listing the minimum qualifications and constraints, I jotted down the specifics. Desserts were not my specialty, but I felt rather secure because I had a committed partner and the project was simple.

"I want you all to be creative and to think outside the box. I have deliberately limited your restrictions so you can experiment with any flavor, texture, and color. Remember: presentation is key! All the basic ingredients will be laid out for each pair at the start of every lesson. Do not hesitate to bring in your ingredients if you wish to do so..."

She went on to go over the specifics of the project and gave us more worksheets that had information on the project's rules. After cramming mine into my suitcase, I anxiously awaited her to announce the pairs' names.

"Ronald Young and Victoria Norman."

I looked around the room and saw that they were completely focused on each other, clearly happy that they had more time to spend together in class than the teacher was allowing. Their intermittent relationship for the previous 18 months was well known. Like me, a few insiders were aware that they had remained together even during her relationship with Tyrone. But Mark just informed me of that; I was unaware of it before.

With a disgusted groan, Ms. Wilson went back to reading her list.

"Aria Lewis and Mark King."

I let out an inside groan at the same moment as Mark let out a relieving breath.

"Tyrese Johnson and Jacob Stabler."

"George Scott and Kenneth Hall."

"Sophia Beckham and Kenji Williams."

"Olivia Lee and Zoe Garcia."

I ignored the remaining names, taking a bottle of water from my backpack and sipping it while I drank my sorrows and hoped that Ms. Wilson would match me with a serious, quiet student in this rowdy class. My name was yelled out as I held the bottle to my lips, feeling the water slake my thirst.

"Seraphina Hawthorne and Tyrone Davis."

I slammed the bottle down, causing more liquid to splash onto the desk as water spurted from my lips.

"WHAT?"

As the shocked students stared at me in confusion, Ms. Wilson disregarded my outburst and carried on reading the final names. I had to be dreaming! It has been more than a year and a half since Tyrone Davis last wrote anything! How in the world did she think he would assist me in creating a remarkable dish for an assignment that would determine my final grade? How in the world was she going to expect me to collaborate with someone so close to failure?

Tyrone's chest rose and fell in time, not even aware of the disturbance. Almost everyone in the classroom was staring at me when I looked around. I sank deeper into my seat, trying to cover my hot cheeks, and furiously tugged my hair out of its loose ponytail to hide from the shocked looks. Whispers quickly filled the classroom.

"She's going to be working with Tyrone?"

"That's four whole months!"

"He won't work with her. He hates her guts."

"This should be interesting."

"He used to be so hot-"

"You blind? He still is!"

"He doesn't talk to anyone, how is that going to work out?"

"I bet he'll cut this class anyway."

"That's not fair! I wanted to be his partner!"

“This is just ironic!"

Victoria's voice was the last one I recognized. I couldn't resist the overwhelming need to punch her so hard that she would fly out of the window, but instead, I clenched my fists. Trust me, the temptation was too strong. I ignored their arguments and wished for the gates of hell to open, engulfing me in their flaming depths. I was relieved when the bell rang to indicate that the class was about to close, but I was unable to avoid Ms. Wilson's scowl as she kept me behind after school.

"Remember how much this assignment is worth Seraphina, I expect nothing less than an A from you and Tyrone."

I gave her a look of disbelief.

I spat incredulously, staring at her as if she had just grown two heads, "You expect an A from Tyrone Davis?" "I'm sorry to point this out to you, but Tyrone hasn't scored higher than an F since tenth grade! Yeah, sure he used to be smart, academic and the star striker of the school team but right now he's just plain useless. There's no way he's capable of getting anything higher than a fail."

My mouth erupted in a volcano explosion of heated, steaming resentment and worry that had been festering inside of me for the last few days.

"He has no ambition and probably won't even make it to college! He's just... just... useless in the grand scheme of life!"

I was gasping so much that I had to grab my curls and tug until I hurt. I bit my bottom lip to try to contain my raging rage while holding back a scream. Why, of all days, did Ms. Wilson have to drop such a bombshell on me? I was meant to be in mourning, not obsessing over the violent, troubled twin of my closest buddy.

She merely gave me a raised eyebrow in response, which was enough to make me groan aloud.

"If he's capable of plummeting from an A grade to a F then I think he's perfectly capable of spiraling back up, don't you think?"

I didn't see the unusual sheen to her steel-grey eyes, as if she was hinting at something quite different. Unless she said that I could go out and find someone else to be paired with, I didn't want to pay attention to anything she had to say. Everyone else, except Tyrone.

Heck, I'd much rather collaborate with George Scott, that slobbering sleazeball. At least my past with him wasn't extensive, convoluted, or traumatic.

I shot back, stifling an eye roll, "No, I think he's capable of making me fail this class!" and stormed out of her hideous classroom.

As I shut the door behind me, she said, "Then you better work hard to make sure you don't!"

I leaned against the door, breathing deeply, and tried to shove my fury to the back of my mind. Dr. Emily had taught me this clever approach, along with how to regulate my breathing, to help me deal with my emotions when they were overwhelming. That is until I spun around and struck a rock-hard chest head-on.

"Ouch!" I rubbed my head and hissed. "Watch where you're heading asshole!"

I shook my head, glaring at the blond man in front of me and feeling my wrath bubble up again. I gasped and fell backward as realization struck me like a truck, denting my body.

"Oh no!" I exhaled, my eyes wide with fear and nervousness.

"Oh yes!" Tyrone said, glaring at me with a frown so sour it turned my stomach. He held me at arm's length and his eyes were brimming with disgust.