"Ack! It's true! You're in the Culinary section! What the fuck, Riley!? I thought we were gonna be in Military Police together!"
"When did we decide that, Sister?"
"We're siblings—we should have, like, a telepathic connection or something!"
"I am adopted, Sister."
"Fuck. I forgot!"
The group was now gathered outside the auditorium, standing in the unusually large and cavernous hallway, lined with massive screens that listed where the students were placed. Names scrolled endlessly across the glowing panels, and right now, Hannah and Riley were staring at the screen for Culinary students.
Sure enough, Riley Ross was listed there.
"Don't sweat it, Sis," Bella sighed, resting her elbow on Hannah's shoulder while jerking a thumb at her twin. "Me and this clown is literal twins—and he still ended up in Performing Arts. But hey, least you and me in the same class."
"Hold up…" Benjamin squinted at the Culinary list, then pointed. "Ayyo—Pauline? You in the same section as Riley!? You cookin' too!?"
"What!?" Both Bella and Hannah whipped their heads toward the screen as soon as they heard that.
"For real?" Bella raised a brow. "I thought you'd go down our path. Telepaths high-key top tier in law enforcement. You could be a damn detective next year, easy."
"That…" Pauline looked down. "I… don't really like the violence that comes with it. And… I like cooking."
"So you like cookin'…" Benjamin leaned in, smirking, "...or you like Riley? Bit too convenient, don't you think? Same section? You read his mind, huh? Did you—ohhh, you did! Pauline got caught!"
"What!? No!" Pauline's face flushed red.
"Stop messin' with the poor girl. Damn." Bella nudged him hard, making him stumble. "Anyway, those regular classes don't mean nothin'. I'm finna be a superhero anyway. Let's go check the superhero sections!"
With that, Bella and Hannah dashed through the hallway, Benjamin spinning after them dramatically in his ridiculous flamingo-themed coat. Riley and Pauline followed more slowly behind, with Pauline stifling a laugh at Benjamin's flair.
She glanced at Riley once or twice, but his expression remained unreadable. Calm. Still. Blank.
When they finally caught up to the group, they found Benjamin on the floor, clutching his chest like he'd been mortally wounded.
"Why!?" he wailed, raising his arm in the air and lifting his head with tears that clearly weren't real. "Why all y'all end up together—and I'm out here solo!?"
"Same… class?" Pauline tiptoed around him, approaching the screen with a hand over her mouth. "We're… all in the same section?"
"Yes," Hannah pumped her fist in the air, grinning. "Everyone except Benjie over here."
"Why!?" Benjamin stood up, only to collapse into Bella's arms like he had been shot in the back. "I… I feel so weak, Sis. Betrayed. Abandoned. This injustice…"
"Ain't nobody betray you," Bella rolled her eyes and lightly shoved Benjamin away. "It's random. Blame yourself for pickin' Performing Arts—or whatever that fruity gay ass shit is."
"How dare you!" Benjamin gasped dramatically, flaring his feathery coat as he stood tall and glared at his sister. "Our creator is an artist!"
"Now you just puttin' the lord's name in vain. And the OG's a different kind of artist."
"All art is—"
The twins continued bickering, their voices growing louder and more ridiculous by the second. Hannah, Riley, and Pauline watched for a few seconds before sighing and walking off.
"Pauline…" Hannah gently tapped her on the shoulder as they pushed their way through the crowd. "Take care of my brother, okay? You're the only one I trust to do it. He can get a little... fucking weird sometimes. Freaky quiet. But he's a good kid."
"Of… course," Pauline nodded, startled but sincere.
"You do not need to make her treat me like a child, Sister." Riley shook his head, walking between them.
"You're literally twelve." Hannah clicked her tongue, pressing her finger to his forehead. Then, without warning, she pulled him into a tight hug. She held him close for a moment, her voice soft as she whispered into his ear,
"Please. Please don't do anything weird."
"I will try, Sister," Riley whispered back.
And then she let go and ran off into the crowd without another word. Pauline could only watch her go, her eyes wide. Hannah has always been going off about Riley being weird—but from what she had been experiencing so far, most of them in their group were a bit… eccentric.
"Your… sister really cares about you, huh?" she asked as she and Riley continued walking toward their first class.
"She does, Ms. Pauline," Riley nodded.
And… that was the end of their conversation.
When they arrived at the classroom, they found they were the first ones there. And to their surprise, the room wasn't what they were expecting at all—it looked more like a high-end industrial kitchen than a standard classroom.
The room was expansive, with over a dozen cooking islands neatly arranged everywhere. Each station was fully equipped with stoves, sinks, and an array of professional-looking knives and utensils. It didn't just feel like a class—it felt like a real kitchen one could find in a TV show.
Pauline instinctively headed toward the farthest counter… but stopped when she noticed Riley had halted at the one close to the center island.
"Uhm…" she asked as she turned back, "You want to sit here?"
"Yes, Ms. Pauline," Riley nodded. "It is strategically closest to the professor, which minimizes the effort required to hear or ask questions. We will not have to raise our hands for extended periods."
"R-right…" Pauline blinked before slowly walking back to join him.
They waited there in silence. Minutes passed. Still, no one else arrived.
Pauline wasn't usually the one to start conversations, but knowing full well that Riley would never speak unless spoken to, she took a deep breath.
"Do… you play video games, Riley?" she asked, sneaking a glance at his expression.
"Yes, Ms. Pauline."
"Really?" Pauline's eyes lit up. "What games do you play?"
"Flowers vs. Vampires 1 and 2, Ms. Pauline."
"That…" Pauline nearly choked on her own breath. "Do… you play any online games?"
"I am twelve, Ms. Pauline," Riley tilted his head. "Most online games are rated M for Mature. I am highly advised against playing them."
"What… about Hannah? Does she play anything?"
"I do not believe so, Ms. Pauline."
"I… I see. Would you like to—?"
Before she could finish her invitation, the rest of the students began pouring into the classroom, their chatter drowning out any words that wanted to come out of her. Within moments, the room was full—and then, the professor arrived.
"Settle down, settle down!" The professor slammed a tenderizing mallet onto a cutting board, the snap echoing to the far corners of the room.
"My name is Jordan Ramsay," he announced, voice smooth but commanding. "Some of you might know me. I own several restaurants and have more than a dozen Michelin stars."
A wave of murmurs swept through the room as the students looked at each other.
"But relax," he added with a grin. "I'm not nearly as pompous as I seem on TV—at least not in person. So no need to be nervous."
A few nervous laughs followed.
"Now," he clapped his hands together, bouncing lightly on his heels, "This is an interactive class. I teach what you want to learn. For the next three hours, we're going off-script. So raise your hand, little darlings, and tell me what you want to learn."
He scanned the room, but no one moved. No one met his gaze.
Then, just as he was about to sigh in disappointment, a hand slowly rose—Riley Ross.
Pauline's eyes widened as she felt dozens of gazes shift their way again. They were already getting attention due to Riley's physical condition, and now everyone's eyes were truly focused on them.
"Oh?" Jordan's brows lifted. "We've got someone already? Impressive. Last year, no one dared to go first. Alright, what do you want to learn, young man?"
Riley, still deep in thought, brought a hand to his chin. Truthfully, he'd raised his hand out of reflex—afraid someone else might beat him to it. But now that the professor was asking him, he took a moment to truly consider it.
Then, quietly, he let out a small "Oh."
Jordan leaned in slightly. "What is it?"
"I want to learn how to effectively cut flesh and bone, Professor Jordan."
There was a pause.
"You mean…" Jordan's expression tensed. "...slice meat? You want to learn how to butcher?
"Yes," Riley nodded slowly, a faint smile beginning to creep onto his face.
"I wish to become a master butcher, Professor Jordan."