Bitter Chocolate

One

It was a typical late November day. The weather could only be called dreary at best, with low grey clouds stretching across the sky and a chilly wind ruffling every tree and blade of wild grass. It was fortunate that Blake Elke enjoyed the cold, he was the kind of man who preferred a chill skimming over his skin than the sensation of being suffocated in a heated room. And so, he was content to sit with his back against the knarred bark of a tree and let breeze after breeze wash over him.

It was hard to think that he had been at the Heartwood Music Academy for exactly seven years to that day. Time had gone so quickly, and as he tried to think back to events and bigger moments in his time there, he only found that each memory overlapped another, making everything in his past blurred. He had been sitting there for what felt like hours, trying to remember his first day, his first week at the school especially designed for music students. It was a unique place; both prestigious and well known from country to country for producing new talent year after year. In many aspects it was just like a normal boarding school, a child would take a range of lessons and gain normal qualifications until they reached sixteen; it was only then that their entire lives would begin to revolve around music. And it was only then that a handful of students would discover that they didn't want to spend the rest of their life pursuing a dream dependant on an instrument.

No, even though Blake couldn't remember his first weeks at the Academy, he could remember something more important. He could remember the first time he met Vanille Glace.

The one thing someone needed to know about Blake was that he had never been a friendly person; he kept himself to himself, he was quiet, observant. When he had first arrived, even at just eleven years old, people had realized quickly that he didn't want friends. They only needed to approach him once to understand that he didn't want to be bothered, that he seemed fine with his own company. Perhaps that was why his memories were so faint; because for his first few weeks at the Academy, Blake Elke was as present as a ghost.

Everyone else quickly accepted that, they might have tried once to get him involved, to try and welcome him into their little cliques, but after that they would forget him. Vanille however, wasn't like that.

He still remembered where and when it had all happened, it was his earliest memory of his school life, and perhaps the only reason it was so bright was because she was in it. He’d noticed that straight away, she had always had the kind of presence to make something dull, burst with colour.

It had been in the school canteen, close to Christmas, and Blake had been sitting on a table in the middle of the room. He couldn't remember eating anything, only tapping the grey table with his fork, it was distant, but he could still remember the ting that the metal made against the surface. He had probably zoned out, too deeply emerged in his own thoughts to notice anything around him, until the scraping of a chair against the ground forced him into reality. He remembered the black of her uniform as she sat down opposite him, and the flash of her light hair as strands bounced on her shoulders. And lastly, he remembered the warmth in her soft brown eyes, and the smile on her lips as she met his dark, guarded gaze with ease.

“Hi.” She reached down to one of the two plates of chocolate pudding on her lunch tray and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, slid one from her tray onto his.

“I got you cake.”

Thinking about it, a very faint smile formed on Blake’s lips. At the time, he had thought it so strange, so...random. But now he knew that it was just the kind of girl she was, it was funny to think their years of friendship stemmed from that day. From a slice of cake, no less.

“Why?”

He had asked bluntly, his expression stoic enough to have made almost anyone hesitate before answering. But not her, she didn't seem threatened, or unnerved by his attitude, in fact, she had just smiled even more brightly.

“Because we’re going to be friends.”

The confidence in her voice had been so firm, there hadn’t even been a quiver of doubt as she dug her spoon into her own slice of cake and began to eat. Blake remembered not touching his cake, he just stared at her with a mixture of bewilderment and coldness. The girl in front of him was definitely not the kind of girl he could ever see himself being friends with; she looked like the opposite of him in every way. Bubbly, vivacious, and worst of all, she seemed endlessly happy. He hated to be in the presence of happiness, even back then, it made him feel all the more withdrawn and sour. Yet even though he remembered not liking her, not even a little, he had still spoken to her.

“Who are you?”

She hadn't been put off by the sharp tone in his voice, and looking up with that same smile, she had answered him contently.

“Vanille Glace. We’re in the same maths class. And English. And I think physics as well...oh! and French. You play the violin don’t you? I play the piano.”

He had noticed that she had a slight accent on some words, and mixed with her foreign name, he assumed that she was partly French. Even though he hadn't wanted to, he found that he had to comment on her name.

“You’re called Vanilla Ice-Cream?”

He could still hear the incredulous tone in his voice, but she hadn't been in the least offended, in fact, she had laughed lightly.

“Bien sur! My parents had a sense of humour, don’t you think?”

He hadn't smiled in return, but a little part of his frosted exterior had melted then. And over the next days, weeks, months of her tagging around him aimlessly, forcing her company onto him and refusing to let him be the ghost that he wanted to be, Blake found that eventually, layer by layer, he stopped being quite so shielded. With her anyway.

He never did know why she picked him to welcome into her group of friends, or chose him every time she needed a partner in a project, or a teammate in a lesson. But unlike everyone else, she didn't give up on him; and now, so many years later, Blake couldn't help but be amused at the fact that she had been right after all. They had turned out to be friends, and for him, she turned out to be the only person he could be around for hours, and not grow bored or annoyed with.

What amused him further was that in those seven years, Vanille hadn't changed a bit. She was taller, she had brighter eyes and longer hair, but she was still the bubbly, slightly too cheerful girl that she had always been.

The sound of footsteps nearby abruptly brushed the faded smile from Blake’s lips, he wrenched himself away from his memories, and opened his eyes in time to see a familiar face leaning over him, tilted slightly to one side with glimmering eyes, full of amusement.

“You’re thinking about what to get me for Christmas, aren’t you?”

Vanille asked excitedly, her long hair falling silkily over her shoulders as she waited for his answer with genuine childish anticipation. Raising his eyebrow and giving away nothing, Blake stood up and brushed down his dark uniform so that any pieces of dead grass or torn leaves could fall off, back onto the ground from which they had come from.

“Who said you’re getting a present?”

He answered, and predictably Vanille pouted dramatically, fiddling with the bright green and blue bow in her hair as she answered mournfully.

“How mean! I’ll have you know that I’ve already gotten your present.”

He breathed out with amusement, and digging his hands into his pockets, they slowly began to walk through patches of what would be bluebells and snowdrops when spring came, until they reached a familiar dirt track which would lead straight back to the secluded class rooms and dormitories for the strictly music students.

“What have you gotten me?”

He asked, knowing that she would never say. The only thing Vanille loved to do more than receive presents was to give them. She glittered with warmth and genuine happiness when she made someone happy, she was kind like that; it was something Blake had picked up quickly about her, and it was just one more thing he loved about her.

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and half-skipping a few steps in front of him, answered in a sing-song voice.

“It’s a sur~pri~se.”

As they walked over a slight mound of ground, the old school buildings came into view; even though he had seen them a thousand times, he still had to appreciate their appearance. There was something very discreet about the Senior Academy buildings, something secluded. For a start, the Junior Academy for students up to the age of sixteen was completely separate, it was several miles south of the Senior buildings. And because of this, the Senior buildings were quiet, void of younger children’s laughter and an altogether slightly more serious place. The buildings were impressive, but small; there were the dormitories, which made up an L shape, half for boys, half for girls, and a nicely sized community kitchen in the middle. To the north of that was a building nicknamed “Ivy Tower” because it was a tall, picturesque stone building, almost completely covered by moss green ivy. It held private music lessons for one-to-one tutor sessions, and Blake knew that it was Vanille's least favourite place. The only other building was a low, grey stoned one that everyone called “the dungeon”, even the professors. This was because the basements were used as music rooms whilst the ground floor held compute suites, and other technological goods which seemed oddly out of place for such an authentically aged place. At the very end of it was a cubed room which looked perfectly quaint and presentable; this in fact, was the dreaded canteen.

They strode side by side in easy silence, a bell screaming that it was the end of lunch cried out shrilly just as Vanille and Blake entered the dungeon to go register in their tutor groups.

Other students, not wanting to be late, but not really too distressed over that prospect, buzzed half heartedly around the two of them as they paused in the middle of the long corridor.

“I’ll see you later?”

She asked hopefully, and never one to speak unless he felt the need to, Blake merely nodded and watched as Vanille smiled and turned to go into her form room. He waited until she was gone before slowly making his own way to his classroom; a familiar, slightly aching feeling quickly emerged and faded through him as he pulled open the door to his own tutor room. Every time he found himself no longer soaking in Vanille’s presence, the same ache would ripple through him. And every time it did, he would pay no attention to it. It was nothing new, after all.

Closing the door behind her, Vanille smiled as she zigzagged her way through the wooden desks to her own, only pausing to grin and greet those who said hello to her. Sliding into her seat, she dropped her brightly patterned schoolbag onto her desk, and immediately began to burrow through her belongings until she found the thing she had been craving for, something that had classed as a forbidden substance at the school. A small tube of jellybeans.

She pushed the lid down with her lemon painted fingernails and popped a handful of them into her mouth. She chewed and sucked on them contently, wondering the same thing she always wondered whenever she ate her beloved jellybeans. Why were they banned?

In truth, she knew the answer; a group of students the year before had been expelled from the school for organizing and running a sweet racket, exploiting the younger students. Because of this, the headmistress of the Academy had decided to ban any sweet-like products not purchased from the school cafeteria. Of course, it wasn't too hard to break the rules for the Senior students, particularly for those, who-like Vanille- were slightly addicted to certain goods.

Her form tutor, a middle-aged woman with brown, greying hair and ironically named Miss Grey, entered the room then. She had firm wrinkles around her eyes, her nose, her lips, even her chin sagged with line after line. Her being a professor and tutor of the trombone probably had something to do with it.

The class didn't quieten at her entrance, and she didn't force them to lower their voices; she didn't look like she had the energy to do all it would take to silence them.

On one side of Vanille was an empty seat, reserved for her best friend, who she knew was about as likely to show up to registration as Father Christmas. But on her other side was a toffee-haired girl tapping out a complex beat onto her desk with a pencil. Vanille leant across and spoke with a quiet respect.

“Hey Sasha, have you seen Berry anywhere?”

The girl abruptly stopped tapping and grinned knowingly, the diamond in her nose and the ring though her lip both twinkled beneath the yellow lights as she answered.

“Yeah, she was with Justin earlier. She didn't look very happy with him.”

Vanille giggled at that, Berry, her closest friend for years, rarely looked openly happy with a guy, even if that said guy was her current boyfriend.

“Does anyone know where Anna is? Claudia? Berry?”

Miss Grey asked from the front, register in hand, looking up Vanille nodded and covered for her friend.

“Berry wasn't feeling too good, I think she’s in bed in her room. Resting.”

Vanille offered, and behind her she heard a man’s voice scoff and joke to his other friends suggestively.

“Pfft, the last thing she does in bed is rest.”

Hearing her friend’s name being dragged through mud, Vanille looked over her shoulder, she didn't scowl or frown. She merely raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘as if she’d touch you.’ He got the message, stopped looking quite so smug and lowered his gaze awkwardly. The bell rang, telling everyone to go off to their tutor sessions if they had one, and there was an instantaneous clatter of bags being hurled onto tables and chairs being shoved under desks. The students left through the door, Vanille with them, and as she got outside into the corridor, her gaze looked all around her until it landed on the person she was looking for.

“Berry!”

Tall, thin and effortlessly cool, Berry was the kind of girl who stood out of a crowd, she always looked different from other people, even in the compulsory school uniform, she looked...special. The black blazer fitted her perfectly, the red bow around the collar of her black shirt wasn't just smart but made her smooth, pale skin look all the more flawless. And her short black skirt, and knee-length black socks made her legs look long and perfect. With Straight, dark brown hair and a classically beautiful face, it wasn't surprising that Berry was either desired or hated by almost everyone. Vanille had always thought what a shame it was that she didn't smile more, with a smile, she had always thought that Berry could take the world.

“You missed registration?”

Vanille asked, she was really just asking Berry to tell her what was happening, whether anything was wrong, and why she had missed it. They walked past the bustling crowds and made their way into the small canteen. As neither of the two had any tutoring, they normally spent Monday afternoons just hanging out in the canteen, drinking soda can after soda can. It was fortunate that Berry always had a lot to say.

“Problems with Justin. Stupid boy.”

She spat out heatedly and blinking, Vanille looked down to the new chrome watch with diamante fittings which rested on Berry's thin wrist.

“But didn't he just buy you that present?”

She asked as they pushed open the double doors and entered the almost deserted lunch room, taking a seat at a nearby table, Berry sighed.

“That’s the problem. Every man has a limit of how much he will spend on me. I like to wait and see how high it goes before ending a relationship. And little Justin seems to have reached his limit with this.”

She plucked the watch from her wrist and dropped it onto the table disgustedly, it made a dull thud as it landed in between them. Vanille looked down at the pretty object in front of her, it looked nice; a pretty little gift that a guy might give his seventeen year old girlfriend. Sadly, Justin would have to find out the hard way that Berry wasn't a normal girlfriend.

“Didn't you say that he spent his month’s allowance on that?”

She asked eventually, and without a moment’s hesitance, Berry answered flatly.

“Not enough.”

Money meant everything to Berry, she never fell for a man with her heart, she only followed rise of their bank account.

“So, are you going to break up with him?”

Vanille asked after a moment, she didn't expect Berry to show any form of sympathy or regret, and was right not to as something sharp glimmered in her friend’s eyes.

“Not before I get a pretty parting gift from him.”

She paused, smiled a very smug smile and soothingly ran her fingers through her straight hair before going on to explain.

“You see, I found out that Justin’s been grabbing ass with that slut Sally Olson-” Her cool tone broke off abruptly as she let the seventeen year old drama queen out. “- The stupid two timing bastard! How dare he so much as looked at another girl when he had me! Glancing at other girls- whatever-fine...But cheating with SALLY OLSON? SALLY OLSON?! My left foot is prettier to look at than her face!”

Breathing out savagely, Berry sat up straight, rested her hands lightly on the table in front of her and suddenly returned to the ice-queen’s poise. The smugness in her eyes also returned as she calmly finished what she had originally been saying.

“So unless he wants everyone to know what a stinking, unfaithful bastard he is. I’m going to expect something deliciously expensive. Maybe a necklace?”

Vanille rolled her eyes, she felt bad for her friend, she really did, but blackmail was something Berry hadn't wandered into before.

“Aren’t you above blackmail Berry?”

She asked, toying with the sleeves of her black blazer. Berry's smirk disappeared at this, she instantly looked incredibly noble.

“Hmm? I am never above getting free things.”

She paused, leant back into her chair and smiled victoriously before adding one last thing.

“Particularly if those free things come from jerks.”