MELTING: Set him on Fire

"Mommy!"

The word screamed through her mind as she shut her eyes tight, gripping anything she could in a desperate attempt to steady herself. It's coming for me! She squeezed her eyes even harder, hoping against hope that it might change anything. For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. The world held its breath. The only sound was the wind gently drifting through the open window, its soft hum almost mocking her anxiety.

Then, something cold splashed against her skin, jolting her back to reality. A drop of liquid. Another one followed. And then another, like raindrops descending from the sky. Cautiously, she cracked one eye open—then quickly shut it again. But, curiosity won out, and she opened the other eye just to check.

And there he was, inches away. Ice.

Her mind scrambled to make sense of the scene. Wait... what? Then it clicked. In her panic, she had grabbed anything in her path—and that had been him. Of course, it was Ice.

Water dripped from his hair, splattering onto her skin. She pushed back with a small groan, irritation bubbling up inside her.

"No! Now I'm soaked!" she grumbled, swatting at the droplets that dotted her clothes.

Her eyes flicked down to the floor where Ice had claimed there was a lizard. But now, there was only the wet floor, and no sign of the creature. The realization sank in, and her irritation shifted to a mix of confusion and disbelief. She glared at him, but even she knew how ridiculous it must have looked. She probably looked like a kid throwing a tantrum, Ice thought, barely holding back a sigh.

"Great. Now I'm drenched too," she muttered, still scowling. "Why'd you rush out like that? It's dangerous!" She slapped at the water droplets that had soaked her shirt, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Don't try to reason with her, Ice reminded himself, the thought cutting sharper than any words he could've said aloud. He was too exhausted to keep arguing with her.

"I'll lend you some clothes. Just shut up, or we'll be late," he muttered, clearly exasperated. Why do I feel like I'm babysitting?

"You'll have 10 minutes to prepare the ingredients and utensils," Miss Professor's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering. "After that, you'll have 3 hours. That includes decorating the cake. Whether you finish or not, your cake will be evaluated."

Back then, I thought 3 hours was way too much time for a cake. But after practicing with Ice, I realized—3 hours isn't nearly enough. I hadn't even gotten the chance to practice my icing piping!

"I don't know how to decorate!" Panic bubbled up in my chest, and I quickly turned to Ice for help, hoping he'd have a solution. But there he was, already looking irritated as he started preparing the ingredients.

"You can shut up and start prepping the utensils. I'll handle the decorations," Ice grumbled, his voice sharp as always. "Do your job and don't waste any time."

Without waiting for me to respond, he stalked off toward the freezer at the back of the lab, leaving me frozen in place. Okay, okay. I got this, I thought to myself. I can't mess up—Ice will be so pissed if I do.

The relentless flickering of the red timer light only made the pressure worse. The seconds felt like they were mocking me, slipping away so fast. How could 3 hours feel like minutes? I wasn't even close to finishing!

Ice always said, Take it slow and steady; don't panic. He made it look easy—like a seasoned chef dancing to his own rhythm. But for me? I was a mess. Running around the kitchen, trying to keep up, my heart thumping in my chest. I couldn't stop the rising tide of panic.

"Fire! Get that cake batter in the oven, we only have one hour left!" Ice's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts like a whip.

I snapped back to reality and rushed to grab the batter. I shoved it into the preheated oven with shaking hands. Meanwhile, Ice, the picture of focus, was already starting on the decorations. I, on the other hand, was still trying to keep up with the basics.

"Okay, everyone, finalize your decorations! You have only 5 minutes left!" The professor's voice pierced the tension in the room.

Five minutes?! Already?

I watched Ice's hands move with precision, almost like he was painting a masterpiece. I felt like I was drowning in stress, but Ice—Ice was in his element, moving effortlessly. My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

"Go Ice! Go Ice! You're the best!" I cheered, trying to get my energy back up. Yes, I was done with my task—barely. But I knew he'd only given me the most basic job, knowing full well that I'd mess it up if he let me do more.

"Stop it, Fire! You're distracting me!" Ice snapped, his voice tense with irritation.

I shrank back, feeling the weight of his annoyance. I was just trying to cheer him on... but it felt more like I was just making things worse.

The clock ticked away, its rhythm relentless, like the countdown to a bomb going off. It felt just like one of those high-stakes cooking competitions I'd seen on TV. The other students were racing to finish, each trying to outdo the other as the minutes slipped by. The tension in the room was suffocating.

"Okay, everyone, step away from your stations. Your cakes will be evaluated one by one. You can take a break while we process the results," the professor announced, her voice cutting through the air like a final verdict.

My stomach twisted in knots. Ice was incredibly competitive—he always wanted to be the best, and I didn't want to be the reason we failed. I wasn't competitive, not like him, but I didn't want to disappoint him.

A wave of relief passed through the room as the chaos came to a halt. It was over, at least for now. The students slowly shuffled out, heading to the cafeteria, eager for a brief respite.

I let out a sigh of relief, the kind that comes when a storm finally passes. The tension that had hung in the air for the past few hours loosened, and I could hear it all around me—quiet exhalations, murmured conversations, a soft sense of relief spreading through the room. The cooking test was over. The cakes were finished. The stress that had practically suffocated me was gone... for now.

But as I stood there, the dull weight of my anxiety remained. Ice. He hadn't smiled at all during the whole process. Was he satisfied? Did we do enough to make him proud? I couldn't quite shake the pressure. I was just relieved that it was over, but I knew—he wouldn't be. Ice always wanted the best, and the best wasn't just "good enough." It was "perfect."

The students began trickling out of the lab, walking towards the cafeteria. The break was a welcome escape from the tension, but my mind kept replaying the moments of the test. Could we have done better? Could I have done better?

Trying to distract myself, I grabbed a drink and some snacks before heading toward the familiar faces of Oriel and Dhylan, who were already seated together. It was hard to miss the two of them—always together, always inseparable.

"Hey guys!" I greeted them, sliding into the seat next to Ori, my eyes catching her exasperated expression as she shot a glare at Dhylan.

"Did you finish your cake on time?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Oriel's glare told me everything I needed to know.

"Ask this fool!" she snapped, clearly irritated.

"Hey, Ori, don't call me a fool!" Dhylan responded dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest as if wounded. "You're hurting my feelings!" He stumbled backward, acting as if he were about to collapse from the 'pain.'

I couldn't hold back a laugh. That's classic Dhylan.

With a roll of her eyes, Oriel pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Stop it, you idiot!" she said, her tone half exasperated, half affectionate. Dhylan, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, continued his little act.

"Ouch! Now she called me an idiot," he muttered, clearly relishing every moment. Then, as if sensing an opening, he leaned closer to Oriel. "I'll stop if you give me a kiss," he teased, winking at her.

Oriel's jaw dropped, her cheeks turning crimson. This wasn't the first time he'd done this—no, he had a habit of teasing her like this. But the way he said it, so casually, always left her speechless. It was almost as if he knew how much it would make her flustered, and he loved every second of it.

"Go take pictures of them! Hurry up!" I heard some students whispering, and while they tried to keep it quiet, I caught enough of it to know they were talking about Ori and Dhylan.

Am I missing something here? I thought, raising an eyebrow as I glanced between the two of them.

"You two are so sweet. Are you sure you're just best friends?" I asked teasingly, still trying to piece together the weird energy between them.

"We're not!" Dhylan blurted out, but Oriel shot him a death glare that quickly silenced him. With a resigned sigh, Dhylan slumped into his seat, hands behind his head like a child who'd been scolded.

Oriel sighed and began to explain, shaking her head in frustration. "Back in our first year, there was a campus competition. It was all about who looked the best as a couple—there was a poll, and all these pictures went around the campus. DJ came up with the idea to sign us up."

Dhylan looked at her, as if he was about to protest, but Oriel's expression warned him to stay quiet. So, he did.

"I wasn't really into it, but I agreed because the prize money was good. We thought it wouldn't matter, no one would know we weren't actually a couple," she continued, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "And then... we won. We didn't expect to, but we did."

I blinked, surprised. "Wait, so you weren't really a couple?"

"No!" Oriel groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "But after we won, no one believed us. We tried to explain it, but they just kept saying, 'You two look perfect together!'" She sighed deeply, her frustration evident.

I couldn't help but giggle. "Well, I can kind of see why they thought that."

"No, not you too, Fyre!" Oriel whined, but behind her, Dhylan gave me a thumbs-up, his face the picture of mischief. He quickly dropped his hands when Oriel shot him a look.

They're really cute together, I thought, watching their dynamic unfold. The way they bickered and laughed at each other—it was obvious there was something deeper there, even if neither of them would admit it. Their relationship was like a gentle dance, one where they were constantly teasing, but there was always affection underneath.

Just then, I caught a glimpse of Ice, moving through the cafeteria, scanning for an empty seat. I raised my hand, hoping to catch his attention. I was sure he saw me—he definitely did!

"Ice!" I called, excited to finally get a chance to talk.

But he ignored me.

He looked straight at me, then turned away, his face impassive. How could he... I felt a little sting in my chest.

Next chapter: High-stakes culinary class, Fire and Ice are paired together for a crucial project. Despite Fire's efforts to connect and celebrate their success, Ice remains distant and critical. When their grade falls short of perfection, Fire's insecurities surface, leading her to flee in embarrassment. Will Ice ever acknowledge their teamwork, or is Fire destined to remain in his shadow?