Ten | Sloan

I was a girl who absolutely despised going to school. Dreaded it. As I aged, I realized it was necessary and wanted to go, ultimately being unable to. But middle school was cruel. Most kids get suitable hand-me-downs from older siblings, but mine were tattered, stained, and most times didn't fit right. My shoes had holes the size of quarters due to toes being jammed into the front of them—they rubbed the leather thin until they'd finally pop free. Honestly, the missing fabric gave my toes relief.

The stares were terrible; the whispers were hurtful, and nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to the cruel girls who blatantly called me out on my appearance just to gain a laugh from their obnoxious friends. I didn't want to impress them; I didn't want to be friends with them; I just wanted to make it through the day and someday end up with a diploma. It didn't happen, and I went through absolute hell for years for nothing. Culinary school was supposed to be different. I honestly believed every single day I was going to wake up and be inspired enough I would want to go to class.

That was not the case. Dread had once again rooted itself deep in my belly, and I felt like a child again—throwing a tantrum in my head that was screaming I don't want to go!

I sank further beneath the water of the tub and scooped what was left of the bubbles closer to my chin. Class was due to start in exactly two hours, and I couldn't bring myself to leave the comfort of the bath—the one place where I could calm myself down. Using my big toe, I bounced the giant, limp dildo that hung from the shower wall, honestly debating not going to class and giving Hulk a whirl. I needed something to take my mind off the impending doom of a day. It happened every day, and there was no getting used to it.

This time, it was not classmates poking fun at my clothing that was the problem. In fact, I had come to enjoy my classes with Ava, and the stupid coat was no longer a problem because I had spent every cent I could find to buy it. And Steve, he was the last of my problems right now, although he wasn't helping. The problem was with Ollie.

Chef Oliver, I rolled my eyes at his stupid fucking name as though he was here to witness it.

Didn't matter, he had caught several of my eye rolls over the last few weeks, and they didn't seem to help or hurt the situation. Coat was a problem? Fine, I got the coat. He thinks I cheat on tests? I started working extra hard on each test, getting damn near perfect marks on all of them. Every single little move I made, Ollie had an issue with. If I had entered the classroom solely to take a breath, he would find a problem with it. He was a miserable fuck for his age, being a complete asshole to everyone in his path, but especially to me.

I regretted our night together, as fun as it had been. I didn't want to regret it for this reason; I wanted to regret it because I wasn't over Steve yet when it happened. I felt like a really shitty human being ninety percent of the time. And now the one thing that was supposed to make me feel even slightly better was the one thing that was dragging me back into a hole of depression.

I was sinking fast.

I used to cry when sad. I couldn't even do that anymore; there were no tears left in me to waste on someone like Chef Oliver. It had been weeks since I'd shed them. Now I was beginning the next phase; the one where I just felt numb all the time. Avoiding people was becoming easier, and that included avoiding TJ and even Hallie. The only time of day where I felt anything was mornings like this, where I just wanted to be alone and be anywhere but my first class.

My stomach ached again at the very thought of leaving this house.

I gave Hulk another little bounce with a bubble coated toe just before a knock at the bathroom door interrupted my sulking.

"Sloan?" Hallie's voice was careful, calm, and more hopeful I was going to answer her this time. This wasn't the first knock; it was more like the fifth.

"Honey, we gotta talk. Even if you don't want to. Can I please come in?"

No.

My foot dropped back into the water, splashing a wave to the floor outside the tub. Because I didn't actually speak my thought, the bathroom door handle slowly turned. I was so numb at the moment, I didn't even have the will to tell Hallie to go away.

"I'm coming in."

Obviously.

A blurry Hallie appeared in the corner of my eye as I continued to focus on Hulk. Noting the color of the pink blob, Hallie appeared to be dressed in her scrubs and ready for her workday at the nursing home. My friend kept her distance, knowing she wasn't actually welcome in the room but needed to be here.

"I know you are going through a hard time with Steve..."

"This isn't about Steve." The huff I released sent a flurry of bubbles into the air.

"Okay?" Hallie took one step forward and stopped herself again. "Is it about the stack of bills that are sitting in the kitchen? Because that's why I'm here. Sloan, they are getting out of hand. What are you going to do?"

That was an excellent question. That pile could not be avoided forever. And yes, I was trudging my way through the stack, but it seemed like just when I thought I had caught up another bill would come out of nowhere and be twice as much as the others. Maybe if the cops came and hauled me off to jail for not paying bills, then I would feel better about life. I could work in the jail's kitchen, not have any late payments, not have to go to the knife skills class and ignore the sexy teacher that fucked me and then kicked me right back into the worst bout of depression I had experienced yet. Ollie was stomping on my dream, and the thought of being a chef didn't seem worth it anymore.

"Sloan? The bills? I can't help you with them."

"I didn't ask you to, Hal!" More water splashed to the floor as I sat up. "I'm trying! Every moment I'm not in school, I'm working. I have to work to pay for school. I'm stuck with my husband's debt right now, and I'm honestly debating skipping class to fuck the shower. That is where I am in my life. If the cops come and haul me off, you'll find me thanking Steve for fucking my credit score and ending my misery."

"Well, at least that means you'll talk to him and get it off your chest. It will help if you do."

The imaginary daggers that stemmed from my glare at my best friend were enough that Hallie retreated one step. If she brought that up one more time, I was going to go off on her. Steve, for once, was not the problem right now. In fact, my mind was so lost elsewhere that unless Hallie brought him up, I was mostly okay.

"You know, Sloan," Hallie mumbled, hurt by my outburst. "You say that you stand behind this decision he and you made together, but what I don't find fair is I'm literally paying for it as much as you are, and I'm not drowning in self-pity."

She was so right, but if she didn't want to help, then she should have stopped offering the money a long time ago. I was tapped now. Every piece of bakeware I had been hoarding in my closet, every piece of clothing I didn't use and some I did, all were currently sitting at TJ's shop waiting to be priced. I had about three outfits to my name and some school supplies. That was it. Hallie didn't understand what all I had already given up... like Steve's sweatshirt.

"I will pay you back first." I yanked the plug to allow the water to drain. "I consigned all my shit at TJ's. The money is yours. I owe you exactly three-hundred dollars, and you will have it by next paycheck."

"I'm not complaining about that!" Hallie argued. "Do you see me sulking like this and avoiding life? No! You're supposed to be getting better. Not worse!"

"You didn't marry him, Hallie! I did! If you could have handled it better, maybe you should have!" My tone ended this discussion. I had every right to avoid life right now, and I would fight Hallie on this and win ten times over again.

The room fell silent. Maybe I could no longer cry, but Hallie could. I knew without even looking that her face was already covered in tears. It was a low blow, especially knowing how close our group of four once was.

"Hal..."

"I'll be home late tonight. I'm working a double shift." And with that, the door slammed behind Hallie.

>>

"He's glaring at you again."

Without even bothering to look, I knew Ava was referring to Chef Oliver. Who knows what the hell I had done to set him off again? But he was on a warpath today, and the entire class was paying for something I did. I could feel the heat of his glare all the way across the room as I kept my focus on my textbook. We were learning how to julienne vegetables, and there was no way that somehow I had fucked this up. Obviously, he was pissy about something else, and he was silently planning on how to make my life miserable today. It was likely just my existence that had him peeved.

Beside my textbook sat a cutting board, my block of knives, and a green pepper. Ava had unfortunately been stuck with an onion and cut it incorrectly, causing her eyes to sting with useless tears. Ollie had even warned her not to cut the root off, but Ava apparently didn't listen. She was too busy panicking over the vegetable their cruel chef had chosen for her.

I had practically bolted for the green pepper when I saw it. They were my absolute favorite to eat. I hoped Ollie had an aversion to them. If so, I wondered if I could get the essence of green pepper bottled to wear as a perfume.

"You all have until I get to you to perfect your skill." Ollie stood from his seat, demanding the attention of his classroom. I took the bait, feeling my cheeks heat when I found him staring directly at me with no intent to shift to anyone else. "Cut your vegetable in half, one half to be used for practice and one for me to watch closer. Begin."

"My eyes." Ava rubbed at them. "I'm dying. Rest in peace, me. This is how I'm going. I just know it."

I giggled with her, knowing that nothing was going to help at this point. The only thing that was going to work in Ava's favor today was she was standing beside me, and that meant all of Ollie's attention would be right here on whatever I had done wrong. The entire class was likely safe, because he was skipping the first and the second row to start with me.

"Ass," I muttered beneath my breath, withdrawing my chef's knife to begin. He would not give me any time to practice. Whatever. I julienned vegetables all the time to make fajitas. It was no different here.

Ollie strode my way slowly, his hands held behind his back and clutched together. He pretended like he looked around the room, but he wasn't, not really. He was dead-set on breaking any will I had left of returning to this classroom.

Not today, I told myself. Do not let him win today. You've got this. You've done this a million times. There is nothing that can go wrong for him to call you out on.

Holding the knife properly with three fingers on one side, thumb on the other and then curling them around the handle, I positioned the pepper and first sliced it in half. The seeds didn't matter today; no one would be eating it. I continued to position the halved pepper by holding it down with my knuckles facing out in a claw grip. Using the knife in a rocking motion, I began cutting julienned pieces, instantly realizing I had a problem.

The knives bought secondhand from TJ's... beyond dull.

The chef's knife was refusing to cut through the skin of the pepper, and I was using it more like a hacksaw to get the skin to break. With Ollie coming my way, I knew I was screwed. This had become the equivalent of being back in middle school with everyone else in brand new clothes, while mine were literally falling apart as I wore them. He hadn't even spoken to me yet, and I was already mad and embarrassed about bringing the knives into this classroom.

"Miss Smith," the chef approached and hovered over my workstation, "proceed as you were."

He had won, and I hadn't even started.

My chest rose high with a deep inset of air and fell in defeat. Still holding the pepper in a claw grip, I rocked the knife once, feeling the same toughness of the skin as before. I repeated the motion three times before the skin finally gave me some slack and tore apart. I couldn't bring myself to look up. I stared at a green vegetable I never wanted to eat again as long as I lived while feeling my dream slipping between my fingers.

"Those knives aren't acceptable for this class," he scolded while continuing to walk. "You will bring in different ones if you plan to pass this course."

That is it. I'm done.

"The knives aren't the damn problem!" I tossed it onto the workstation while yelling at his back. Ollie turned wide eyed at my outburst, along with the rest of the class. "They are part of the problem. Apparently, it's me who is not acceptable for this class. You can shove those dull knives right up your ass, Ollie."

I left the entire block on the workstation, not even caring I could probably sell them to get more money for bills or to pay back Hallie. I retrieved my backpack and textbook, striding right past my one-night stand for the door. TJ and Hallie thought I was a disaster? Well, now everyone else did too.

"Sloan!" Ollie followed me into the hall.

I ignored him, strutting straight out the main doors to a fall Chicago day. It felt damn good—better than I had felt in weeks since first walking into his stupid classroom. It was a rush to put Oliver Mulligan in his place.

I just wondered how long the feeling was going to last.

>>

Five weeks of putting up with Oliver Mulligan deserved a special treat. Even though bills were eating their way through every penny I could scrounge up, I splurged a little after class and hit up the local grocery store. Some ingredients were needed. Vegetables had left a sour taste in my mouth this afternoon, and now fruit pizza was all I could think about. Thinking about anything else at the moment was just asking for trouble. I knew I was on the brink of an episode, and I hadn't had one since the day after Ollie and I had mind-blowing sex.

Screw him.

I was going to eat my weight in carbs smothered in fruit, and then I was going to have orgasms with my friend Hulk—better than the ones Ollie had given me just to show him up. My damn shower was going to be a better lay than the guy who got me off while upside down.

Since baking wasn't my forte, I would fake my way through it. First off, frozen sugar cookie dough. The kitchen table was littered with toppings, from sugar and flour to strawberries and blueberries. I began slicing, knowing when this pizza was finished, it was going to have a big smiley face on it. If I couldn't bring one to my own face, my damn pizza was going to be happy enough for everyone.

Hallie's arrival didn't stop me as I stretched the cookie dough into the form of a rounded crust. Although, I wasn't expecting her to come home for lunch. When the tired girl in pink scrubs walked into the kitchen, Hallie looked like she was going to burst at the sight of the mess I'd made. Her TJ-induced cleaning kick hadn't quite ended.

"I promise I will clean it," I said, continuing to pull at the dough. "I need fruit pizza."

Hallie bobbed her head, dropping her purse to an open chair beside the table. She clutched her elbow as she looked at all the cut fruit. My friend wasn't stupid; when I made fruit pizza, it was usually covered in vanilla ice cream by the end of the night and was solely used as a mood enhancer.

Who needed drugs when you could have fruit pizza?

"Did you start your period?" Hallie asked, still taking in the mess as calmly as she could.

I laughed, placing the crust onto pizza Pizzazz Pete and shaking my head no. "I'm celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Hallie questioned, looking around the room again before stopping on me. "Celebrating what exactly?"

I hadn't been forthcoming with the information of my one-night stand being my teacher, and how he was being a complete asshole about it. This news would not go over well. Keeping things from Hallie never did.

"So funny story," I began, not wanting to even look at my friend as I began the tale of how I was going to drop out of school.

Hallie pushed her purse off the chair and sat, dropping her face into her hands. "Why do I think this story will not be funny at all?"

"Toothpick guy is one of my teachers, and he's making my life a living hell. These last five miserable weeks have completely been about him. He thinks I slept with him to get good grades—crazy, I know..." I could barely get a breath in, let alone allow Hallie to react. The blonde's interest was piqued, and she kept sitting up straighter and attempting to speak. But I wasn't allowing it. "I can't stand him! He is such a prick! Like, he's really fucking hot, but a total douche! And he's a smoker! Gross!"

"Okay..." Hallie managed a single word.

"Anyway," I turned the dial on the pizza Pizzazz to fifteen minutes and began dusting the pizza with a pinch of sugar mixed with cinnamon as it spun, "he's been terrible, and I just couldn't take it anymore! The knives were the last straw. I told him to stick 'em where the sun doesn't shine, and I walked!"

"Walked where?" Hallie stood abruptly.

"Out! Out of the school! I'm done! Over it! He wins!"

Hallie stepped worriedly in front of me, taking both of my shoulders into her grip and giving them a shake. "You what?"

"Dropped out!"

"Sloan," she whispered, "you're going to regret it. Don't."

"I can get most of the money back, since I didn't go the entire semester," I continued to ramble, feeling the panic setting in.

"I don't care about the money! Forget that for now."

"I'm fine, Hal."

"Are you?" she countered. "Are you really fine, Sloan? You're going to walk out on a dream because he's a jerk, and he smokes? I don't think this is even about him. Maybe some of it, but not all. You are not okay."

Just as I was about to lie once more, sparks flew past us. A loud popping caused both Hallie and me to shriek and jump. Between the crackling and the sparks, it was like someone lit fireworks in the kitchen, leaving Hallie and I clutching each other while screaming. It took a moment to realize what was happening. Pete was now groaning from not being able to make a full turn. The lights flickered once before a flame erupted from the appliance.

"Shit!" Hallie squealed, running for the sprayer of the sink.

I grabbed the cord of the Pizzazz and yanked it from the wall before it could further feed the fire or cause us to lose electricity. Once it was freed from the power source, Hallie sprayed the tiny flame until it vanquished. It didn't stop black smoke from clouding the small kitchen. We both inhaled it with watering eyes and coughing fits, meanwhile staring at a completely fried Pete.

What just happened? My breaths became rapid. My throat tightened, feeling as though I had swallowed a strawberry whole.

"Sloan?"

Pete is dead.

I hit the ground faster than Hallie could get to me. Panicked breaths barely allowing me time to think, let alone realize my friend was holding my face between her palms. My thoughts were everywhere, dizzying and uncontrollable.

"Sloan!" Hallie continued to yell while patting my cheeks. "Look at me! You're okay! I've got you..."