Well, this is starting to get pretty deep now. Things are going to start moving pretty fast so just let me know if things start to feel rushed or hurried!

Thanks and Happy Reading!

**Edited as of Sept. 21**

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CHAPTER TEN

The following day, I stay true to my word, talking animatedly with Isaac during Baking. He seems pleased with my change in attitude towards him. I know Carmen disapproves of my behavior but I don’t care. I am done obeying orders. Something inside of me, something reckless, seems to have come alive and I have no desire to listen to Carmen’s warnings anymore.

Weeks pass and Carmen ignores my very presence, resorting to the most childish means to punish me. I, however, find it easier to disobey when he is like this but more than anything, Isaac is becoming too interesting to ignore. Whenever his eyes light up after I tell a joke or accidentally brush his arm, butterflies dance inside of me and I am growing quite fond of this feeling. I know it is wrong, mostly because of the fact that he is human and mortal, but I can’t seem to look at this as a big enough reason to ignore him any longer.

One day in Baking, Isaac talks constantly, never leaving room for silence to settle around us. I can feel Carmen’s stare boring into my back but I ignore it, mesmerized every time Isaac’s face breaks into a smile. He seems so carefree, so full of life.

I wish that I were more like him.

“Careful,” Isaac warns as I stir the brownie batter. “If you stir it too much, you will have tough brownies.”

“How do you know so much about cooking?” I ask curiously, handing the bowl back to him when he holds out his hands.

He takes the bowl, grinning. “My mother. When I was little, we used to sit in the kitchen for hours just baking pretty much everything.” He pauses in remembrance. “We used to make the biggest messes—flour all over the floor and in our hair, sticky sugar smeared on the counter, vanilla stained on our hands.” He laughs softly.

“Sounds like you guys had fun,” I comment, and he nods, pouring the batter into a greased pan. “Do you still do that?” I wonder and a spasm of pain crosses his face. I immediately regret asking and hurriedly try to excuse my behavior. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I should have never—“

Isaac shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” He hesitates, setting down the bowl. “We just don’t cook anymore.”

“Oh,” I say slightly befuddled, watching him closely. His face is covered in anguish but then it vanishes, the smile back into place.

“I’m over it.” He shrugs, placing the pan in the oven. When he straightens, he swipes a finger across the mixing bowl, popping it into his mouth and tasting the uncooked brownie mix. I struggle to hide the look of disgust from my face as he smacks his lips together satisfyingly. I can’t help but giggle, though, at his joyful manner when Mr. Anderson announces that it is time to clean up.

I turn on the sink, squirting the liquid soap into it and scrubbing the walls of the steel tub until bubbles form. Turning away, I walk over to another sink to borrow a washcloth. When I glance up, Carmen is eyeing me with eyes turned a flat black. I glare back as he approaches. “You are really proving me wrong,” he drawls sarcastically when he is only a foot away, breaking his rule of silence.

“I can’t keep avoiding him. If I do, he’ll get suspicious,” I explain in hushed tones.

Carmen looks on unbelievingly, arms crossed over his chest. “O-kay.”

“I’m serious!”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Why did you tell him where I would be at the lake that day?” I ask him abruptly, eyes narrowed.

“He asked me where you go after school. I thought it would be best not to lie since you and him have something—“

“No, Carmen, we don’t,” I say firmly; he rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” I wave him away, turning back to the sink. I feel the anger rise in me, turning my limbs to stone. I close my eyes, swallowing hard until the emotion fades. When I open my eyes, I gasp.

Bubbles are overflowing onto the counter from our sink. A few onlookers laugh and point as I quickly shut off the water. Isaac returns and gapes at the mess I have made. “What in the world…” he trails off as I start scooping bubbles into my hand.

Suddenly, the bell rings.

Students swarm around us towards the door to escape the classroom. Mr. Anderson sees us and frowns at the mess, shaking his head. “Clean this up,” he orders. “I don’t want you leaving until this place is spotless!” He marches away, slower than the teenagers, to exit as well.

I sigh, gazing sadly at the mess of bubbles and then at Isaac. I’m afraid that he will be angry with me but when I turn, a smile is lightening up his face. I frown, puzzled, when a mischievous glint enters his orbs as he scoops up a handful of soap. I continue to frown when he suddenly smears the foam all over my face.

I squeal and back away. “You did not!” I shriek, wiping the soap from my eyes. Isaac bursts into obnoxious laughter, clutching at the table for support. I vow for revenge, scooping my own handful and shoving it into the back of his head all over his hair. He yelps, grabbing more.

Soon, we are both soaked, bubbles popping on our shirts. I back slowly away, hands up in surrender, but Isaac is refusing, advancing with both fists filled with fresh bubbles. “Please, Isaac!” I beg, and he laughs. I take another step back and my foot slips on the wet floor. I go tumbling down, my vampire speed dulled from being with Isaac; I am unable to react fast enough. Isaac’s face washes clean of all happiness as he watches me fall. His hands reach out for me, catching me before I smack the back of my head on the tiled floor. I smile but it’s brief as Isaac looses his balance and the floor comes up to meet us with a loud thump.

We both groan and I try to sit up. Isaac’s hands are on either side of my face and I halt when I realize that I am mere inches away from his face. His eyes widen with surprise but then a soft smile appears as he glances at my lips. I panic when the wetness of his hair hits me. His cologne is dripping away, his overpowering scent filling the air. His lips part and his throat is there within the touch of my lips, my teeth. The scent coming from his mouth is unbearable, his fragrance softly brushing my face, stunning me. I swallow when he inches closer, his eyes intent upon me. The thirst is there, resurfacing as he gets closer and closer. I feel my eyes dilate, and Isaac pauses when we hear the door open.

We spring apart, Isaac rolling away from me. I fumble for a handhold, finally gripping the counter and pulling myself up. “I see that you both are making progress,” Mr. Anderson’s voice rings out.

“Sorry, we were just—“ Isaac struggles to explain.

“I don’t want to hear any of your excuses, Mister Ligaroti. Just get this place cleaned up!” Our teacher sweeps from the room again. Isaac glances sideways at me, and I lower my head, moving quickly to get the mop.

We work in silence for most of the time, cleaning side-by-side. I can feel Isaac’s tension emitting from his body in waves; I can sense his embarrassment as his heart pounds audibly inside of his chest. I sigh, dropping the wash cloth into the sink. Isaac peers up, perplexed, but I ignore him, infuriated by his sudden timid demeanor.

Eventually, the room is back to its spotless self and we are allowed to leave. I pile up my books, taking my time, wondering if Isaac will speak. I’m not surprised when he doesn’t, leaving the room without a backward glance.

At my locker, I shove my stuff inside, struggling—as usual—to find space. Finally, I dig my bag out of the depths of spare paper and pencils, shoving whatever homework I can discover into the open sack. Closing the locker and turning away, I spot a few young teenagers roaming the halls after hours. It is a boy and girl, hands clasped between them. A feeling so powerful overwhelms me when I see the boy glance at the girl with a tender stare.

I have to turn away, knowing the look. She is his Blood Mate, his spouse for life. I can see it in his eyes as I seek the very depths of his soul, only intruding part way until I find this unnerving piece of information. The girl seems oblivious to his love as I seek her soul through her hazel doorways. She sees him as a crush, a fling, and I feel a terrible pity for the young boy who will have his heart broken.

I sigh, hauling my bag higher up on my shoulder. Leaving the school, I blink when the sun hits me with blinding accuracy, aiming for my unprotected eyes. I shade my hand over my face and start when I see a familiar backside.

A head full of vibrant and plush curls shaded a most peculiar orange sit atop a slender, toned body. His back is bent, leaning casually over the bike railing. His right ankle loops around the other and he taps his thumb rhythmically against the metal bar. “Michael?” I call, my voice thick with surprise.

He glances up and bares his fluorescent-white teeth in my direction. “Sophia,” he calls, his almond-shaped, gray-colored eyes shinning in the bright sunlight. I raise a hand in hello as he straightens, his towering frame stretching until it reaches its six-feet-four height. “Have fun cleaning?” he asks, his thin eyebrow arched.

“Oh, yes,” I answer with mock enthusiasm, rolling my eyes heavenward. He chuckles, the sound rumbling inside of my chest at the deep tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he says simply.

“For me?” I glance at him with suspicion, raising my bag higher up on my shoulder.

“Uh-huh. I decided that it was time that we talked.” He loops a securing arm across my shoulders, and I stiffen.

“If this is about Isaac—“ I start, warning him with my steely gaze.

“Who said it was?” His gray eyes sparkle with mischief; I roll my own.

Michael takes me to his own car—a glaring white SUV with leather seating. He opens the passenger-side door for me, and I hesitate, glancing apprehensively at him. “Come on,” he urges, looking so angelic with freckles lining his cheeks and his shimmering eyes. I sigh, signally defeat, before leaping into the seat. He snaps the door closed behind me, the sound grating on my ears. He leaps into the driver’s seat a moment later and starts the engine. He speeds out of the parking lot and I breath deeply. “So, where are we off to?”

Michael smiles again, flashing his pearly-white incisors. I cringe at the hidden message embedded in that innocent-enough smile. “I guess you will just have to wait and see.”