Most mornings smelled like croissants, at least, Frankie Stahls's did.

Sunrise at Stella's bakery was always accompanied by pastries, soft buttery ones that pulled apart with little strength and opened into what seemed like thousands of flaky little layers.

There were about five of them working there, and they were mostly quiet save for the occasional joke. Frankie didn't join in a lot of the time, but he liked watching them talk even though they didn't talk much at all. They were all kind of like him in a way, rarely speaking unless spoken to.

It made for an environment he liked, paired with how therapeutic he found baking, he wanted to spend all his days there. When Stella hesitated to have him for the Early morning shifts because he was a senior in Highschool, he practically begged her to let him, and he didn't regret it for a second.

All of the croissants had been proofed overnight, and he'd already gotten the butter croissants out of the oven.

While some of his coworkers got to the Bakery at around 3 am to make the loafs of bread, and others at 4 am for the sourdoughs. Frankie was on pastry duty- he got there at 5 am.

He put the Chocolate Croissants in a bit ago and was waiting on those- they were the ones he was particularly excited for since they were the ones he made himself, from the dough to putting them in the oven. Frankie behaved like they were his children, and they practically were. The butter croissants had come out well, but the chocolate croissants were a level above that. Frankie even made the hazelnut chocolate spread himself.

He wondered if the spread would end up going rock hard in the oven, or if he overproofed the dough and the croissants would be no good.

The fact that he'd made perfect butter croissants, and a perfect spread did nothing to make him less anxious.

Bakers will never be idle, as Stella always said. While he was just a Bakery assistant for now, she made sure to put him to work.

Frankie took one tray of the Pain Au Chocolat from the proofer, and placed it on his work table before taking the rest of them as well. He lifted the saran wrap of the Pain Au Chocolat and took a whiff of the proofed dough, he knew it was proofed properly by the signature scent, and the perfect roundness.

Stella always taught them to check by smell first, by sight second, and by touch third.

When he finished brushing them with an egg wash, the timer rang for the croissants. He set the Pain Au Chocolat to his right, then took the chocolate croissants from the oven placing them on the left of his table. The Pain Au Chocolat were placed in the oven, then he started powdering the croissants.

They looked delicate, and Frankie was almost afraid to touch the pretty light brown pastries.

When the final croissant was powdered, he hesitated to present them before Stella. To him, they looked perfect. But what parent disliked the way their child looked? They could be hideous for all he knew- croissants only a mother could love. His eyes could be playing him for a fool.

"They're done?" she asked.

Stella looked at them, her eyes dragging across each croissant. "They look right" She said, "You powdered them nicely, spent a bit of time on that I'm guessing,"

Frankie nodded, and bubbled with excitement. Stella paused him for a moment and picked a pastry from the tray. She split it, the glistening chocolate spread appeared, and there was no one more pleased than Frankie, "That looks good as well. Nice and Glossy " She said, while pointing a pinky at the Hazelnut Chocolate spread.

Then, she put a piece to her mouth.

Stella's past words bounced around in his head as he watched her. No point in it looking good, if it doesn't taste it as well.

"Perfect," Stella said, cracking a smile. "You did a great job, Frankie. Proud of you,"

Stella was a serious kind of a person, the type that didn't seem to know human emotions, the type that didn't look particularly nice.

But though she was stiff, and not much could seem to move her, she was also kind. It wasn't as if she didn't find people worthy of her praise, she just gave it sparingly, and only when she was really impressed

Frankie set the rest of the chocolate croissants down on the bakery rack, and could barely contain his smile.

"You're all smiles," Dana said. She was the other person on pastry duty, two years older than Frankie at 20. She studied catering at the community college.

He looked at her and smiled even more, he felt like the corners of his mouth were about to split.

Being at the bakery always made him feel better. It made Frankie somehow feel better, even though he still had English first thing in the morning.

***

He got to school late that morning.

He missed homeroom and had to take attendance at the front desk. Frankie didn't bother to dawdle at the door of his English class, and just went right instead, ripping the bandaid off entirely. He knew that if he stood around there a bit too long, and let the anxiety get to his head, he would end up not going inside. He'd done that before once, and got a detention for it. Frankie had thought that his first detention wouldn't be that big of a deal, but he'd soon found out that while Jenner didn't get many detentions in English he got them in every other class, and was a regular in the detention room.

Never again.

He sat down as always, letting his bag slip off shoulder and fall to the ground. The room wasn't silent as Mr Moore liked it to be, never was, and he seemed to give up on that preference of his most of the time. Frankie picked out a couple of words every now and again from the intermittent chatter in his English room, something about a football game, then something about a party. Neither of those were very relevant to him. Frankie had only been to one football game his school was hosting, the one his brother played in for the first time. They'd been closer then, so when Foster asked him he'd been excited. Whatever happened between them? He couldn't put his finger on it. All he knew was that they'd been best friends one moment, and now, nothing.

Frankie looked at the board, and caught the eye of Mr Moore who'd just wheeled out from behind the whiteboard. He didn't exactly know what he was doing behind there anyway.

"Frankie?" Mr Moore said, his brows furrowed as ran his eye up and down the other.

Frankie nodded.

"Late?"

Frankie nodded.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at him, "Use your words," He said, gruffly, kissing his teeth as he did. There was annoyance to his words that didn't sound like it was meant for Frankie, but was targeted towards him anyway.

Frankie bit at his lip, he hated it when people spoke to him in that way, and too many did.

"I was late this morning..." He said, quietly.

While Frankie felt bad- sympathised maybe- for Mr Moore being ridiculed and all for things he couldn't change very easily, that didn't mean Frankie liked him at all.

For all the things he could change- how mean he was, and how he took out his anger on others indiscriminately- he didn't.

Mr Moore looked between the back of the class and Frankie, incessantly, a curious glint was in his eye and a fist was at his lip. He seemed to forget something, and was desperately trying to remember it.

Frankie didn't know what he wanted, but he hoped to God that Mr Moore just happened to look at him by chance- that he didn't have anything to do with what he'd forgotten.

Class was almost over, only five minutes to go. They'd spent the class taking turns reading a text, though Frankie ended up reading for half of that time since people kept picking him to go next.

Frankie went to pack his things up, throwing the black pencil case- the one he'd had since middle school- into his bag, and throwing the exercise book with them. Now all he had to do was wait for the announcements Mr Moore made at the end of his classes on Thursdays.

"Listen up," Mr Moore said while raising his voice.

The class let down slightly.

"Listen," shouted Mr Moore.

Even the bunch at the back turn towards him.

Mr Moore held his head in annoyance, smoothing the furrow between his brows.

"I won't give you any more assignments for this semester," He said, "Quiet down, and let me continue,"

You'll be getting one project to do in pairs, and you'll give me your progress every week. Your partner will be the person you sitting next to you,"

The excitement in the room was comtagious... if you were sat next to a friend. They didn't have a seating plan so most people were. It was a bunch of people who didn't havd friends, or were the 'odd friend out'. People like Frankie.

Frankie looked to his right, he didn't have anyone sitting next to him, and he doubted that meant he could do the project himself.

Other people put their hands up to tell Mr Moore they didn't have anyone sitting next to them, and he paired a couple of them together.

"Who else?" Mr Moore said.

Frankie said while putting his up. There were a lot of people who'd be okay with him as a partner, less that would want him as a partner. He looked around the room and gauged who might be his partner by the hands in the air but as usual, he never looked to the back.

Mr Moore stared blankly for a split second, before it finally looked like he remembered what he was forgetting.

"Ezra next to Frankie. I forget that's your permanent seat, he's your partner as well,"

Mr Moore hated him, Frankie was convinced. If he wasn't completely deaf in both ears, he should've heard what they were saying about him when Ezra sat next to Frankie last lesson. He should've heard the way they ridiculed him, and even if he had no intention of stopping them, he should've felt just a little bad for Frankie.

There were six other people who didn't have a partner- why choose Ezra Grant?

Frankie could already hear the snickers and whatnot. He covered his ears slightly, it didn't matter how stupid he looked. He didn't want to hear it, not a bit.