Maths ends with the bell ringing and our teacher dismissing us with a blank look on his face. I head out of the room with Mariah walking beside me scrolling through her social media page. Mariah always has a simple yet sophisticated style of short-shoulder blouses and denim skirts in contrast to my usual style of oversized shirts. Mariah has a great sense of fashion after all she's in the club...well she used to be.

'Have you found another club to join?' I ask her.

'Nope. Most of the available clubs are for nerds and weirdos. I'm trying not to be associated with them.' Mariah tells me, taking out a piece of strawberry-flavoured gum and lightly chewing it.

'Why did you even quit the fashion club anyway, you were great.'

'Stacy and I always had so much bad blood. She is a liar and a freaking drama parasite. Cause of her, I'm forced to quit and join another club. I swear this better not affect my ATAR; I'm not begging my parents to let me repeat another year.'

'Um...how 'bout the archery club? Heard it's very friendly.' 'Sophie is in that club. I don't wanna see that chick brag about how special she is, all because she's "inclusive" Plus, she took my ex away from me, remember?'

'Yeah.' I respond paying attention.

There goes Mariah again. Ranting about things she hates.

'How about the culinary club? You may as well join my club. You already kinda cook at home...doesn't sound like a bad idea.' I suggest.

'Don't you have that head chef position competition thing? Whatever the hell it is.'

'Yeah, you're right! You just reminded me. I'm heading to the cooking room now. I'll catch up with you later!' I shout before running down the hall.

Arriving at the cooking room, I open the door to see Mr Neuman at his desk taking notes. I take a moment to breath in the nice air. I can tell right away that scones are being baked in the oven by simply smelling around. The stools are nice, high and still as flimsy as last year.

Afterall, I fell of one of these bad boys.

The countertops are as clean as always along with the stove. Not just any stove, but an induction stove. According to Principal Walters, '...gas stoves bring a lot of hazards. So, no Brooke, I won't be excepting another request of yours...' I smile thinking about Walter's face anytime he sees me.

Annoyance covered behind a wide smile.

As I enter through the doorway, I take a step to the right avoiding the pointy legs of the stools, walking close to Professor Neuman's desk.

He sees me and greets me with a weary smile as I walk into the room. I feel like Mr is too awkward around me because I'm so energetic. After all, it's his first-year teaching at Hollins Senior High.

'I'm excited to get the position of Head Chef, Mr,' I exclaim as he slowly drops his notes.

'Brooke,' he hesitates and my stomach drops. 'T-there might be...a slight possibility...that you won't get that position.' He starts as my face drops.

'What do you mean?' I ask slowly.

'I mean, there are other kids who are really talented who can also become Head Chef...you know?'

'Last time I checked, you told me that I was the best person for the position and entire club even agreed; all the sudden you're switching sides so easily.'

'Things.... situations change.'

'I'm not buying a word of this. There is some external factor is there?'

'Well, not exactly...'

'Professor Neuman.' I take a step forward crossing my hands.' I, Brooke Monet, am a student who is interested in the Head Chef position. You have just informed me that I may not be getting the position, despite before the holidays, you told me that I will have it. So please tell me, what did I do wrong?'

He takes a deep sigh, rubbing his temples. 'It's my nephew, not you Brooke. He just started here, and I promise he's got some talent. A great cook.

'What does that have to do with my head chef position?'

'Well, I have a terrible relationship with my richer, smarter brother so I am trying to heal it by bonding with my nephew. My brother is a chef and has no issues in showing those skills to my nephew which is why he is such a good cook...even better than myself.'

'So, you're being biased? Family relations over the equality that is earned by a hard-working student. I guess all my efforts can go straight to the trash-'

'Now hold on! Last time I checked, this is supposed to be a competition. I decide who gets the position at the end of the day. It's not yours or my nephew's, it's the club's position. So, I will be unbiased.'

I hold back the urge to click my tongue or roll my eyes. That will lessen the chance of me having the chance to compete in this first place.

'Now look Brooke, we can talk about this-'

'Nope! I've got it. It's all okay. Give me a moment to process this information.' I end the conversation before leaving the cooking room.

I must be a child. Throwing a tantrum doesn't get you the things that you want in this dog-eat-dog world.

Just calm down Brooke. You'll be fine.

***

I've been in a lot of friendships. Majority of them have been with a person who halfway through either gets a boyfriend or has a crush on someone and doesn't know what to do with their feelings. Seeing them get giddy over simply talking to their crush is a very cute thing.

I guess that's mostly how I feel with Ted and Mariah.

When I walk upstairs after English class, I see my best mates, Ted and Mariah talking to each other. Even from 4 meters away I could tell how much he liked her. So obvious and adorable.

The moment Mariah leaves, I run up to Ted and start investigating immediately.

'You and Mariah have been close lately, huh?' I joke.

'It'll never end up that way. She has no interest in me. What was I thinking?! How can I respond by just saying cool?!' he rants lightly slapping himself on his forehead.

Ted has always been determined with how much he liked Mariah and wants to confess. Trying to set up dates, do fancy gestures and give gifts but all of them have backfired in some way. Try to set up a date? Rainy day ruins it all. Tries a fancy gesture to impress her. Accidentally ends up presenting the gesture to the wrong girl and now has to deal with rejection from two girls. Tries to give a gift. She's already read the book he bought.

What bad luck he has.

'Sucks to be you, bud,' I respond, lightly tapping him on the shoulder.

'At this rate, I may as well just stop before I embarrass myself even more.'

'Hey, look at it this way. If I were in your position, I would probably crumble all my feelings into a ball.' I state before smiling.

'Good to know, Brooke. Also, before I forget. What's up with you and Derek?' Ted asks me.

'Who?'

'Derek Briggs.'

'Who the hell is that?'

'Apparently you poured a latte on his hoodie. His friends kept telling everyone about it.'

'The hell. It's not that big of a deal. It was an accident. It's not like I purposely spilt it.' I explain.

'I see. I'm just a carrier of news and gossip.'

We arrive in front of the library and Ted quickly unzips his backpack, taking out his earphones.

'Well, I'll see you later, Brooke.' He saluts me off before heading into the library.

* * *

'Strawberry milk, please.'

I buy myself a mini carton along with a savoury pastry and walk out of the cafeteria. The long line of students is equally rowdy and chatty. The vast landscape around us allows me to see the types of trees with benches underneath, as students sitting in multiple areas.

I put my wallet away in my bag and notice a group of boys. Under the hazelnut tree at the wooden benches. Amongst those boys is the guy from earlier with the latte-spilled hoodie. I take out my wallet and notice that I have $20 in cash.

May as well end this on a good note.

I slowly walk towards the bench with my head held up high. The closer I walk up to them, the more I notice each of them notice me and pipe down. Before long, it seems the entire yard is silent as I stand in front of them.

Derek himself is the last to notice as I stand there in front of him, my wallet still in hand. I finally have a chance to look at him up closely and he isn't that bad to look at.

His dusky brown hair paired with his night-black eyes. A mole that is perfectly situated on the corner below his right eye. He has a basic sense of fashion with a simple t-shirt and denim jeans.

He eventually looks up and notices me standing in front of him and re-positioned himself on the bench with his arms crossed.

'What you after?' he questions me.

'I apologise for spilling a latte all over your hoodie this morning. Hope this helps.' I say before handing him the $20 in cash.

He takes the money and sighs as he places it in his pocket, ' Do you expect this to actually help with getting me a new hoodie? It was $150 jumper from Culture Kings.'

' I'm not paying you 150 bucks. Screw that. Haven't you heard of a laundry machine? Heard it's been working pretty great for the past 100 years.' I remark smiling.

He scoffs.

'Whether you like it or not, Coffee Addict, you're going to buy me a new hoodie. I don't want this one anymore.' He throws his ruined hoodie in my face and his friends chuckle as I yank it off.

I step forward and flick his forehead, grinning; hiding the strong amount of anger and annoyance that swarm my heart like a beehive.

'This so-called coffee addict ain't gonna pay for your new hoodie. That's already been done. See ya.' I smile brightly before I walk off with his hoodie still in my hand.

I walk to the nearest trash can ready to throw it out before stopping myself. It would be a waste and really bad for the environment too. I'll just take it home.