The baking class & the angel

I went out of the nursery, and the hallway is full of students. I checked my watch and found that I blackout for an entire class. Now I have a culinary art — a class where I can learn something.

The classroom differs from others, it’s like a science lab, but in place of the experiment bottles, there is a little oven in every desk and all the equipment you need in the kitchen. It’s a school for rich kids; sure they’ll get you everything in need.

I entered the room, and it went dead silent. All the chanting and giggling replaced with a mute. I eyed the place and found everyone paired and positioned behind their counters. The kids always keep a distance from me, and I don’t mind it. I am the one that clarified that no one tries to get grouped with me.

The only vacant counters are one in the middle who you can get a view of everything in the room and the one in the back, and of course, I will never choose the excellent look. With eyes on me, I went to my seat, wear my apron, and now the class gets back to their talking and gossiping.

I searched in my bag, but I didn’t find my phone and earphones. Shit! I must’ve dropped them on the nursery. Well, I’ll bear the girls gossiping for a couple of minutes.

“Did you hear that he’s part of F.A. members?”

“He’s so famous as the other two members we had in class earlier.”

"He can sing and cook at the same time."

“He’s the oldest and a so handsome Asian man. Smart and attractive”.

“He looks like an actor in the Korean dramas.”

“He’s just a college student, imagine how talent is he, so the school let him teach us.”

I mentally laughed at them, gossiping girls, needs only cameras, and they’ll be perfect paparazzi.

A soft knock sounds at the already opened door got everyone from their essential work and fell in the silence again. I lift my head to see a guy entering the room. I observed the surrounding girls, and their mouths were wide open. The guy's sure tall, brown hair, Asian chocolate brown eyes, and puffed pink lips. He’s looking good wearing only a simple outfit from a white button long sleeve shirt and black jeans upper them a black apron. Sure, he is handsome.

“Hello everyone, my name is Daniel Kim, and I am your new teacher. I’ll do my best to teach you everything I know while making the class enjoyable. Any question?” He asked, and the smile never left his mouth.

Girls started yelling “me” to him, and he randomly pointed at one of the plastic girls in the class. “Teacher, my name is Angela Johnson, are you Korean?” He nodded. “Well, I know from the drama that from the respect you need to call the male older than you Oppa. Can I call you that?” She asked with her annoying- trying to be cute- voice. Oh boy!! She’s sure a bold one.

“Well, Miss Johnson, you should’ve learned from those dramas you watch that calling a teacher Oppa is disrespectful. I am Mr. Kim to all of you,” He answered sternly. Well, she sure deserves it.

“Questions or requests?” No one answers. “Okay, let get to know each other,” he said back to his previous smile.

Everyone introduces himself, and the role reached me. “My name is Sarah Turner,” I spoke briefly, first and last names are the only thing he needs to know.

“Miss Sarah, I can’t see you well from there, why don’t you come to the second table in the middle raw?” He asked, grinning.

I bite my lips at the request. I usually would decline rudely but, somehow, I couldn’t refuse. Silently, I took my stuff and moved to the middle table. Oh my God, I am obedient because of a smile?

The murmuring in the class gets loud. Figured, I am not the obedient type. But, is it a crime to listen for once? At least, I am awake in a class after putting an entire show in front of my English teacher and the freak of my classmate.

“Now, I want each two of you to bake something they like to do in the class. I want to rate your performance to know what I can do next for all of you. We have Sarah alone, who wants to have a third person on the group?” He asked, but before he realizes that no one wants, I murmured a refusal, “I always work alone,” He only nodded.

I went to the furniture room, get the tools I need, and went back to my counter. I feel like making cinnamon rolls, nothing much but dad’s favorite pastry. Making the dough, I want it to be fluffy and moist and doughy. I was enjoying the process until I sensed eyes on me. Someone was following every move I made. I lift my head to find the smiling teacher standing at the corner of my counter.

“I see; you look like you know what you’re doing. Did you used to bake?” He asked. Should I answer? I swear I talked today more than I spoke for months.

“Used to company my dad when he was learning from his friend,” The memory of my dad being scolded by his friend because of him dropping the eggs on the floor made me giggle a bit. Second, I regret it. I forgot that once the teacher addresses the words to me, the whole class eyes went to me. And they never saw me smiling yet giggling.

“Wow, she knows how to laugh?”

“The witch is creeping me out.”

“I never saw her laugh, and it doesn’t feel good seeing her now.” And it went on and on. Mr. Kim was next to me, feeling uncomfortable. I grabbed my bag quickly and headed out of the class, leaving everyone, including the teacher mouth hanging on my action. I wasn’t angry; I hate their ATTENTION.

The baking class was the last one I had. I went to the nursery to see if my phone was there. I enter praying that Noah wasn’t there but; he was still sleeping. He took the bed next to the one I was in before. I stood for a minute, looking at him. Don’t ask me why. Just hormones, maybe? I am honest with myself; he looks so good with his eyes and mouth shut. He was the only person at this school to challenge me word by word but who I am to judge. I know what I am doing is wrong. Maybe he’s doing the same, so no one approaches him.

I snap myself from the two minutes I was spacing on looking at his face and start looking for my phone. It didn’t take me much until I found it with the earphones. It was on the nurse’s desk.

I chased the thoughts of him invading my mind and I got out of the school before the bell rings and get crowded. I went straight to the transportation station and wait for the bus. I put my earphones and blast the music to the 100% volume. It’s a bless when you can’t hear anything but the music in your ears, you don’t even hear your thoughts. But, I let my guards down while listening to music, and someone took advantage of it and remove my left earphone from my ear. I was ready to attack him but I stopped myself when I realized that he was the teacher from earlier.

“It’s you, what do you want?” I asked, bothered.

“It’s not a respective way to talk to me,” He scolded but, without the scary look, he gave the girl earlier.

“WHY? You’re not my teacher now. You’re just a student like me,” I didn’t look at his face while talking.

“But, I am older than you, you have to.”

“I never did to anyone, and you’re not an expectation. Plus, I am no Korean to have this rule as an obligation so, live me alone”.

The bus came, and I stand up to get in. The guy just followed and stood behind me. I heard him laughing in amusement.

“You didn’t have this salty character when you were little,” He ruffled my hair, and before I look behind me, he disappeared. He left me dumfounded, what does he mean by that? Does he know me from before? Should I care? No!

“Girl, aren’t you going to get in?” The bus driver said, snapping me from my thought.

“Sorry for making you wait, sir” I flashed him a big smile and got in the bus. What? I can smile, you know?! I am human, after all. Kids at school prefer me the way I am, because they get to talk about it and alienate me for it.

The thing is, I don’t smile to those who I will see more than once. I don’t want to give them the wrong idea of me wanting friends, because I never had real ones, and I’ll keep it like that. Last time I had a friend she called me a killer and stole all the money I had. I don’t smile, so no one approaches me. Everyone tries to get closer to take what they want and run away after.

I got out of the bus and headed to the so-called ‘home’. It took me about 15 minutes because the area I am living in is far from any transportation. People here have their cars and chauffeurs.

No one at the house except the maids, I passed by the kitchen, and suddenly, I had the urge to bake. I didn’t complete the cinnamon rolls in class, and I miss talking with my dad while I cook. Don’t let the thought of me crazy cross your mind. My brain creates an image of my dad whenever I am in the kitchen. It’s a place where we shared so much. So yeah, I know it’s a hallucination, but I gladly will never try to get cured of it. Oh, I guess it seem crazy to most people.

I run to my room, drop my bag, change my clothes, and headed to my heaven. "Guys leave everything in your hands; the kitchen is mine today.” They hesitated before talking. I think that I scare the maids, but why? I am not a monster. I never mistreated them.

“W-we can’t Miss, we have to make dinner.” A maid said, lowering her head. I think her name is Bella.

“Why are you stuttering? And I am not a Miss. I am even younger than you. Take a break for an hour, and I will finish before dinner time. Then you can continue what you were all doing,” I said with a smile plastered on my face. They nodded and get out of the kitchen; I can hear them mumbled.

“She acts nice suddenly.”

She’s kind to anyone except her mom and her step-father.”

“She has a cute smile.”

Even if it looks like compliments, I didn’t like it. I change my mind about cinnamon rolls. I grab everything I need for a cake, put some music, and start jamming on Halsey’s songs. It took me 30min to end mixing the ingredients and now the cake in the oven and the chocolate sauce in the refrigerator cooling down. I prepared the fruits to decorate the cake and start cleaning the mess I made.

“You didn’t forget Uncle Kim's advice; always clean after doing your work.” I froze in my place for a second. It’s him, leaning in the door entry with his hands on his jeans pockets.

“Dad, you came back” He smiled to me warmly.

“I know you only see me at the kitchen, and you didn’t get in it for so long,” A tear drops from my eye.

“I am so sorry, dad. I am missing being everywhere with you.”

He came to me and wipes my tears and put me in a hug, “Even if I am not here, I am with you, don’t forget to live happily. Do whatever you love, enjoy your time baking and playing the piano. I am always looking over you, and you have people that care about you. Open your eyes and stop being salty to them”.

He broke the hug. I opened my eyes to see no one in front of me.

I got the cake out of the oven and left it for the maids. I don’t feel like eating it anymore. I always get a lecture after seeing him. That’s the work of my brain. How you want me to trust someone when the people I loved left me alone the time I needed them? How you want me to enjoy playing the piano when the one that loves putting her fingers in it betrayed you and me? How do you want me to be happy when you’re not here?

My classmates will feel like they won the lottery if they saw me now. It stings again. I feel like dying. I looked at the window, and it was raining. Good timing! I grab from the kitchen a little knife and run out of the house. I am sick of feeling weak, but it’s difficult to feel a sharp knife break through your heart without knowing why you live that feeling every raining day.

The numbness I feel after hurting myself is the only way to ease the pain a bit. The thing you crave about it is numbing what you don’t want to feel. I know it’s not the right solution, but I never took the right one, anyway.

When I was little, my dad used to give me sedatives, and I sleep after they work on me but, now they don’t anymore. They didn’t for a long, long time; my body got used to them.

One day I woke up with the curse. Yeah, I call it a curse. My dad went to work after he gave me my pills. I felt the fire all whole my body and the pain on my chest. My brain went blank. I got out of the house, not knowing where to go. That's when I lost my father forever.

I sat on the bench, and without thinking, I put the blade on my wrist, ready to open another wound or reopen a previous one. I don’t care. The coldness of the knife didn’t touch my wrist, a hand grabs mine and put a force on it until I loosen the grab on the blade, and it fell on the grace.

Anger rises in me; I lifted my head to see a masked and hooded guy. “Who the fuck you are? And what do you want?” I asked, gritting my teeth. The pain was getting worse, and the only thing that this guy did is to stare at me creepily. I went down to take the knife, and he snatches it before I could reach.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” I was fuming.

“I am keeping this with me,” with a deep voice, he said. He put the knife in his pocket. “And, think of me as the angel your dad sent to you to save you from your sick mind.” He said before he started walking. It perplexed me. What just happened? How the hell he knows my dad? Sick mind? What a great angel?