The E in Enigma

Chapter One - Biscuits Worth Baking

Ellies POV

One year left... that's all I need to survive, I thought to myself, pushing past the bodies in the hall. School has always been somewhat odd for me. The nerd, the misfit, think of any ungodly label you could attach to someone - and I could guarantee someone had pinned it to me. Today, though, the world felt different. I could feel someone's eyes burning into the back of my skull...

There wasn't enough time to think about it. I twisted a left down the hall and made my way through the doors, across the court, and to the open doors that led to my favorite class of all - cooking.

My nostrils filled with the scent of cookies left by the last class, a mixture of sweetness and burning sugar. The room was always the brightest out of all of them, floor to ceiling windows lined the walls, framed with twenty ovens of varying age - all preheating and readying themselves for the c*****e that would ensue when the rest of my classmates arrived.

In the center of the room was the main table where the whole class would perch at the start of every lesson, eagerly awaiting the teachers instructions on how to cook whatever it was he'd sent us home with in the form of a list from the previous week. I emptied my bag out onto the table: flour, sugar, butter, vanilla extract, milk, chocolate... Surely it could only be shortbread! I grinned to myself, swinging myself onto the bar stools that lined the tall table.

Soon, the room filled with classmates, none quite as optimistic about the lesson ahead as myself, and we awaited the teacher's bellowing voice to start the lesson and bring us one hour closer to ending yet another drab day of hell.

"Good afternoon, class." Mr Lauriel announced, walking into the room, his hands in his pockets, smiling from ear to ear. "Ovens on, let's get cracking then!"

Everyone sprinted to the ovens. I nearly tripped over my chair leg in my attempt to claim my favorite oven. Second one on the left, always.

"It's already yours, you know, everyone knows better than to steal from you." Mr Lauriel chuckled, and I felt my cheeks burn a terrible shade of red.

"Better to be safe than sorry though." I quipped, brushing down my skirt that had awkwardly flicked at the hem. Looking up, Mr Lauriel towered over me, his eyes burning into me with the same intensity as those I had felt earlier, and a flat wooden spatula raised in his left hand. "And what exactly do you think you're going to do with that?" I half joked, watching his cheeks turn almost as red as my own. If I was known for anything in this school, it was inappropriate jokes, and that was nothing new.

Now at my favorite oven, I flicked through the instructions before me. Fairly simple, I thought to myself, but turning I could see the puzzled looks on my classmates' faces. Measuring the flour, I could still feel the teacher's eyes digging into my soul, and to add tension, I smothered my hands in the leftover flour and imprinted my hand print onto the back of my skirt, perfectly cupped over my ass.

The desired effect took hold, and half the boys in the class let out muffled groans under their breath. I might be a nerd, but I knew how to work the body that the Gods had blessed me with. Satisfied, I continued with my work, working my magic until I had 14 beautiful shortbread biscuits lined up on my tray ready to bake. After lowering the cookies into the oven, I rocked back and forth on my heels, thinking about how wonderful these cookies were going to be in twelve minutes' time...

Suddenly, I felt the thwack of a wooden object across my knuckles. To any normal person, this probably would have hurt - but all it made me do was smirk. Beside me stood Mr Lauriel, his blue eyes darkening as he studied my reaction to the pain he'd just attempted to inflict. "Don't daydream in my class, Ellie." He snarled, walking away leaving a lingering feeling that this wouldn't be the last time I found myself in trouble this lesson.

Back to daydreaming, it wasn't long until the ping of my timer could be heard ahead of everyone else, and I lifted my perfect tray of biscuits onto the counter with pride. Math might not have always been my strong point, but apparently that logic didn't apply when it came to cooking.

Quickly melting some chocolate over the simmering water I'd heated on the stove, I dipped the biscuits in, savoring the moment and relishing the fact that my skills were only getting better as time wore on in this final year at school. You'll make a damn good wife someday, I thought, one day, when you have a man of your own, and not someone else's.

At eighteen years old, it was well known I hadn't exactly been a late bloomer at school. Though I was labeled as the nerd, my glasses and tight ponytail didn't quite match the curves of my body, or the ever-growing breasts that seemed to have only sprouted further over the course of the summer.

From sixteen, boys had begun vaguely paying attention to me as my body changed. I was no longer the butt of everyone's jokes, and I heard my name only in the girls' whispers when they huddled in the bathroom for gossip. By fifteen, as my body grew, I was taking their boyfriends' hostage, having them dote on every word that left my lips. Turning eighteen had only added s*x to the equation, and the larger the scandal, the more I loved every minute of it.

But now, I yearned for something more. I didn't know what exactly. Scandal was my middle name, and I wanted something that would fulfill every desire that plagued my little black heart.

"MISS ELLIE, WOULD YOU PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO MY INSTRUCTIONS?!" I heard Mr Lauriel bellow out. "BRING YOUR WORK TO THE FRONT OF THE CLASS." Well, that was definitely enough daydreaming for one day...

I hurriedly took my tray of biscuits to the front of the class, and placed them in front of Mr Lauriel. He looked down in dismay, as if he'd been looking forward to me messing up whilst daydreaming. "They're perfect. Well done Ellie." He almost whispered, his eyes lingering as they met my own.

"Thank you, Master" I winked, trying to get my own back from the smack I'd received across my knuckles earlier in the lesson. His eyes blackened again.

"Inappropriate Miss Ellie, I'll see you after class," He snapped "And it's Sir to you."

"Whatever pleases you, Sir..."