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Despite Hayden's poor attempt at sparing my nonexistent ego, unfortunately, I have eyes, and they can see the long row of prototypes lined up on the table beside him just fine. Somehow, their progression worsens over time, each mug sporting larger indents and more cracks than the previous.
Which is the complete opposite case of Hayden's artistic mastery, which coats my mugs in scenes of wildflowers, orange-and-red ombre sunsets, kaleidoscopes of abstract shapes, and enchanted forests like something out of Wizard of Oz or Alice in Wonderland. All right there, next to his own line of pottery. Vases, dishes, mugs, candleholders. Beautiful and perfectly symmetrical.
Even though he picked up pottery just last week.
I don't know what possessed him to put such care into mine, or to carve out a space for me in his studio, right by the window facing the Hudson with a view ten-times that of my apartment's, no matter what he claims. I'm a lost cause, whether he hires a teacher for me or not, but I'm okay with that. The quality time is what I'm after.
"Uh, huh. Sureeee."
"Trust me, Jules. That mug will top all the rest. You'll see. It'll be absolutely perfect."
My lips part. Wait a minute. Is he poking fun at me? I meet his eyes, finding them full of mischief. He totally is!
Huffing a breath, I scoot closer to my wheel, feeling the weight of his stare. Oh, great. Now I have an audience? Fine.
Using my palms, I shape the cool mound into a ball, securing it in the center. Slow and steady, I press the pedal, working the clay into a cylinder as the wheel spins in circles, humming quietly. With deliberate control, I increase the speed, sweat nicking my brow, before I sink my thumbs through the top and carve out a vague outline of a mug.
Sweeping my tongue across my lip, I secure my hands around the whirling cone, lifting them higher and higher, elongating the mug with my movements without disturbing its symmetry.
Oh my god. I'm doing it—I'm really doing it!
Hayden's stare burns a hole in my backside as I trace back down, leaving faint rings in the clay I often see while Mei works her magic. Heart clamoring in my chest, I make a second pass, smoothing out the edges and—
My foot slips on the pedal, roaring the wheel to life.
Shit!
I gasp, releasing the pressure completely, but it's too late. I watch, in both horror and slow motion, as my first sign of brilliance breaks loose and launches across the circular platform, smacking straight into the outer barrier with a thud. It whirls around and around, each rotation growing slower, until the machine stops, leaving only silence and the sight of a half-smashed mug stuck to the wall.
Mouth agape, all I can do is stare... and stare...
"A bit like how you treat the gas pedal."
WHAT?!?!?!
I bolt from my chair as his laughs clatter in my ears. They're triumphant and endless—until I lurch over the table, oozing wet clay between my fingers. The sound of his chair skidding backward rattles through the studio, searing satisfaction through my senses.
"Oh, no—Juliana, no. Don't you dare—"
Recklessly, I whirl on my heel, craning my arm all the way back before hurling the ball through the air at full force. Unsure of its trajectory, I'm partially worried it'll collide into one of Hayden's masterpieces, until the goopy mess hits him square in the chest. Though a bit too high for his apron to take all of it. In fact, it only manages half.
Frozen in shock, Hayden's wide eyes meet mine as the other half slips beneath his apron, surely smearing down his front side like cottage cheese, until both clumps smack against the floor.
My hand shoots to my lips, concealing their reaction and smudging a bit of clay on them.
"Juliana..." he warns.
A small sound escapes me, hysteria gripping my insides.
"This is my favorite shirt."
Indeed. Short-sleeve and silky. Gosh, what a great color on him.
Regaining my composure, I prop a fist on my hip. "Maybe you should've thought of that before talking smack," I say with a sassy head bobble. "Quite the exaggeration, by the way. I'm an excellent driver."
Dead. Silence.
Oh, you have GOT to be joking me.
