Chapter Text
Jinsol maneuvers her flatbed truck up the ramp to the loading dock in the back of Strawberry Brick Ceramics Studio, barely clipping the light pole on the way up. Foot on the brake, she slowly inches the truck up as close to the back door as she dares until the grille is practically pressed against the large handwritten sign on the door that reads JINSOL DON’T DO IT . Jinsol shifts into neutral and, grinning like a lottery winner, slams her foot onto the gas pedal.
The resulting roar of the engine is deafening and incredibly satisfying, seeing as how Jinsol’s truck is a V8 diesel, but what’s even more satisfying is how quickly the door is yanked open to reveal Hyunjin wearing a clay-smeared apron and a fire-and-brimstone expression. Jinsol would be terrified if she wasn’t laughing so hard. Hyunjin rips off her apron to smack it against the sign on the door. She yells over the noise, “Didn’t you read the FUCKING SIGN?”
Jinsol shifts into park and cuts the engine, wiping tears from her eyes. She hops out of the truck, saying, “Yeah, but you gotta be more specific. How am I supposed to know what not to do?”
“It’s literally the only thing you do do!” Hyunjin exclaims, tossing her apron onto a nearby workbench as she follows Jinsol around to the back of the truck. “Your truck is loud as fuck and one of these days you’re gonna forget to put it in neutral and blast a hole through the entire building!”
“Okay, Hyunjin, I may be dumb but I’m not stupid,” Jinsol says serenely as she opens the tailgate and hops up into the truckbed. “Besides, how else am I gonna let you know I’m here? You guys keep forgetting to install that doorbell like I asked.”
“Doorbells are meant for front doors,” Hyunjin says matter-of-factly. “No self-respecting person like Vivi would install a doorbell for the back door. Be serious.”
Jinsol hums as she lifts up one of the 10-pound bags of clay that are neatly stacked in the truckbed. “That is an excellent point. I didn’t even think of that.”
“You guys might be besties but she’s still got the integrity of her establishment to protect,” Hyunjin grunts as she catches the bag of clay from Jinsol and puts it on the dolley.
“I’ll need to verify this information,” Jinsol says. Yes, she and Vivi have been friends since their school days, but Vivi is also the owner of the ceramics studio that Jinsol is currently delivering to and therefore has her own priorities. “Our friendship is now on the line.”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Hyunjin tells her as they transfer more clay out of Jinsol’s truck. Jinsol had been doing deliveries for the studio for a while now, bringing in clay, dry glazes, and other supplies, and Hyunjin always helps her with the unloading. She slings the last bag onto the pile on the dolley and says, “If you want to be a pain in the ass, go talk to Sooyoung. Ask her how she’s doing.”
Jinsol hops down from the truckbed. “Sooyoung? The workshop instructor?”
“Yep,” Hyunjin grunts as they start pushing the dolley towards the door. “Since it’s summer, we’re dedicating more studio time for beginner classes for kids and Sooyoung’s gonna be teaching those.”
“That explains all this B-mix,” Jinsol says, poking a bag full of the cream-white clay. “Normally you guys wouldn’t order this much if not for the beginners.”
They get the dolley through the door, and Hyunjin wheels it to one of the storage rooms while Jinsol departs to give Vivi the manifest. It’s late afternoon on a weekday, so most of the studio rooms are empty as Jinsol passes by on her way towards Vivi’s office hidden behind the check-out counter that’s decorated with a colorful display of handmade ceramics.
“Hey, Vivi,” Jinsol calls as she pushes open the door, and almost immediately collides into someone.
Jinsol’s reflexes are as fast as a cat’s - well, if said cat was suspended in amber and buried for a thousand years. Luckily, the other person is quicker, and jumps back just in time to keep her clay-covered apron from smacking into Jinsol’s front.
Belatedly, Jinsol pulls to a halt. “Oh hey, Sooyoung.”
Jinsol doesn’t see the instructor that often, since her delivery routine doesn’t really require her to go into the studio where Sooyoung runs her workshops, so the fearful expression Sooyoung gives her is jarring to say the least. Jinsol looks to where Vivi is sitting at her desk, hands steepled together like a mob boss. The muscle in Sooyoung’s jaw rolls visibly as there’s some kind of unspoken showdown between her and Vivi. Then Sooyoung squares her shoulders and says to Jinsol, “Hey, Jinsol. What a lovely shade of white you’re wearing.”
Jinsol looks down at her plain white shirt. When she looks back up, Sooyoung all but runs past her out of the office and the smile Vivi is now sporting is borderline nefarious.
Vivi gets up from her desk chair to pluck the manifest from Jinsol’s hand. “Ah, thank you. Last thing I need before I head out.”
“What the fuck is going on,” Jinsol says.
Looking up from the filing cabinet, Vivi says, “I’m doing inventory?”
“No, smartass,” Jinsol says. “What’s wrong with Sooyoung?”
Vivi sighs dramatically. “Other than the obvious things?”
Jinsol winces. “Damn, she’s not even here to defend herself, Vivi.”
“Oh, all right.” Vivi puts the manifest into a folder and tucks it into the cabinet. “So, as you probably noticed from all the B-mix I ordered, we’re offering ceramic-throwing classes for kids during the summer.”
“Yeah, Hyunjin told me,” Jinsol says.
“Sooyoung, as our resident instructor, is gonna be teaching,” Vivi continues. “However, there is one gigantic problem. Sooyoung usually teaches classes for adults. And, personality-wise, she’s a bit… abrasive.”
Jinsol raises an eyebrow.
Vivi sighs. “Ah, who am I kidding. Sooyoung’s an asshole. Her workshop regulars are used to it, though, and a lot of newcomers like her, so it’s never been a problem. But with the kids, we’re talking like, fourth, fifth graders. So that shit won’t fly.”
“Yerim did tell me that she was scared of Sooyoung for a month before finding out she just had RBF,” Jinsol recalls.
“Well, we can’t have Sooyoung making the kids cry no matter how entertaining that would be,” Vivi says. “So, with my power and status as the head of the establishment, I’ve mandated that Sooyoung will practice to not be an asshole. Every time she speaks to one of us, or is spoken to, she has to give a compliment.”
Jinsol’s jaw drops in admiration. “Vivi, you’re heinous.”
“Damn straight I’m a genius. I really should have run for a government position when I had the chance, ” Vivi says with a grin as she shuts the file cabinet and grabs her keys. Jinsol knows she doesn’t mean that - Vivi had talked about opening a ceramics studio since they graduated high school, and now she’s in her element, with her own little government system. Jinsol is just happy to be a supplier.
“I’m gonna head out, gotta get the truck back,” Jinsol says as Vivi locks up her office. “See you when I make the next delivery!”
-
A few days later, when Jinsol parks the truck in the back of Strawberry Brick Ceramics - politely and quietly, this time - Hyunjin isn’t there waiting for her like usual. Instead there’s a note on the door that reads, I’m supervising the open studio for the next hour. ~KHJ with a doodle of a cat with giant whiskers.
Jinsol eyes the row of five-gallon buckets full of dry glaze in her truckbed. She could probably unload them all herself, but the last time she’d tried something similar she’d hurt her back and had to stew at home for a week. Jinsol scoots the dolley over to the back of the truck, then heads into the building to look for someone.
Vivi’s current contingent of employees, other than Sooyoung, are the three that Vivi calls “the triplets” despite them looking nothing alike according to Jinsol. Hyunjin usually runs the open studio hours, Yerim works the counter and helps Sooyoung with her workshops, and Hyeju mixes the glazes and maintains the kiln firing schedule. Jinsol’s delivering glaze today, so she heads toward the kiln room in search of Hyeju.
Hyeju is tinkering with the thermocouple on one of the kilns and grumbling under her breath when Jinsol finds her. “Hey,” Jinsol says.
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Hyeju replies in lieu of greeting.
“We are tiny cogwheels in the giant machine of capitalist industry, Hyeju,” Jinsol tells her, to which Hyeju rolls her eyes. “What’re you doing?”
Hyeju fiddles some more with the thermocouple wire. “We’ve been having some problems with cracking during the glaze firing, which probably means the kiln’s been going at a lower temperature than normal. Or the thermal expansion between the clay and the glaze is too mismatched. I have no fucking idea.”
“Wish I could help you there, buddy,” Jinsol says. “Speaking of which, I have a shipment of stoneware glaze in the truck and Hyunjin’s not around to help me unload.”
Hyeju straightens up and dusts her hands off on her shirt. “Sure, I gotta reorganize our supply anyway. Have you heard about the new workshop schedule for the summer?”
“Yeah, the beginner classes?” Jinsol says. “You guys are gonna be booked and busy, I hear.”
“The kiln schedules are gonna be fucking insane,” Hyeju groans as they go out onto the loading dock. “I keep telling Vivi to hire one more person to help me out with the bisque firing, but she hasn’t found anyone yet.”
Jinsol hops into the truckbed and starts sliding the glaze buckets down towards Hyeju. “If I can move my delivery schedule so I get here in the mornings, I could probably stay for most of the day and give you a hand.”
Hyeju perks up noticeably, which is adorable but Jinsol would never tell her that. “For real?”
Jinsol does some mental math. “Yeah, it shouldn’t clash with my other deliveries.”
“Fuck everyone else, I respect YOU,” Hyeju crows as she stacks the last bucket onto the dolley.
“Wait a minute.” Jinsol fumbles around in her pants pockets for her phone. “Could you say that again? I need it for my ringtone.”
Hyeju grabs her foot and pulls, making Jinsol yelp and almost fall out of the back of the truck. “Don’t try your luck, Jinsol. If you want flattery go talk to Sooyoung.”
“Ah, right,” Jinsol says as they start maneuvering the dolley into the building. “How’s she holding up? The other day she said I was wearing a lovely shade of white.”
Hyeju snorts. “That’s generous. Yerim drew up a list of compliments Sooyoung’s given since the mandate started. So far the only nice thing she’s said to me is that I’m a helpful height.”
“No way, I gotta see this list,” Jinsol grins as they wheel the dolley into the storage room. Hyeju starts stacking the buckets along the wall as Jinsol checks them off on her manifest. “You think it helped her personality at all?”
“I think Vivi is just doing a little trolling,” Hyeju says. “Sooyoung just acts grumpy so people don’t bother her, you know. She’s not actually an asshole.” She stacks the last bucket and gives it a little pat. “Want to see the list? It’s in one of the studios on the whiteboard.”
They make their way through the studio spaces, which are empty save for the last one where there’s a small group of people still working on their pieces. Hyunjin, who’s still supervising, waves at Jinsol and Hyeju through the window.
“It’s around here somewhere,” Hyeju mumbles as she passes by the empty studio rooms. They’re almost at the last one when a voice rings out behind them, “Hyeju, have you fixed the kiln temperature yet?”
Jinsol turns around to see Sooyoung poking her head out of one of the studios they had passed, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She must have been cleaning up. Hyeju tilts her head and puts a hand up to her ear. “What’s that? Are you speaking to me?”
Sooyoung opens her mouth to reply, but Hyeju says, “Directly to me?” and bats her eyelashes.
Sooyoung’s mouth snaps shut. Jinsol struggles to keep a straight face as Sooyoung visibly draws from some mental reservoir of inner peace. Finally, Sooyoung says, very calmly, “Hyeju. Your celadon green glaze recipe is very… wet.”
Jinsol and Hyeju stare at her.
“One of the wettest I’ve seen from the standpoint of water,” Sooyoung continues.
Hyeju heaves a sigh. “That’s going on the whiteboard.”
Sooyoung turns to look at Jinsol. Something too quick to read flits over her face, and Jinsol suddenly feels a tingle zip up her spine as she self-consciously fiddles with the sleeve of her flannel. Sooyoung’s gaze travels slowly over Jinsol from head to toe, completely unreadable. Her throat moves in a quick swallow before she says, “Jinsol, I didn’t hear your truck today.”
Jinsol and Hyeju stare at her some more. Hyeju says, “Is that a compliment?” right as Jinsol exclaims, “You don’t like it when I rev the engine?”
Sooyoung wipes her hands on her apron again, although they’re completely dry by now. “No, I don’t mind the noise! It just startles me sometimes, but I always look forward to hearing it.”
“Yes, because I have arrived to grace you all with my presence,” Jinsol nods, connecting the dots.
“No, because that hellish racket means her deliveries are here, you dweeb,” Hyeju says, grabbing Jinsol’s elbow again. “Come on, let’s go find that list. We got two more entries!”
As she’s pulled down the hall, Jinsol barely catches a glimpse of how Sooyoung’s face has lit up in a fierce blush as she retreats back into her studio. That’s weird.
They find the whiteboard displayed proudly next to the front counter, the words Sooyoung’s Anti-Asshole Home Training Program written across the top in dry-erase marker. Hyeju grabs another marker and starts scribbling in the new entries as Jinsol squints to read the prior ones.
Vivi always keeps the clay stock very organized and extensively labeled. This would be excellent if the labels were not all written in Cantonese.
Yerim has a lot of hair.
Hyunjin’s singing voice is so powerful, she should quit her job, join Broadway, and never return.
“Damn,” Jinsol laughs as she reads through the list. “This might be Vivi’s greatest idea yet. You guys are really starved for entertainment.”
Hyeju merely grunts and writes, Jinsol and her truck are hot and noisy.
Jinsol says, “Sooyoung did not say that.”
“It’s called reading between the lines,” Hyeju replies.
-
Jinsol manages to rearrange her delivery schedule, which leaves her afternoons free to hang around Strawberry Brick Ceramics and witness the triplets recycle clay - which involves Hyunjin holding up a sheet of plywood like a shield while Hyeju and Yerim smash failed pieces from past classes against it and, honestly, just seems like another excuse for them to make a ruckus. Yerim shows her how to run the clay pug mill, which they use to de-aerate and mix together the pieces of clay that they’ve collected, and together they bag the reclaimed clay to use for workshop demos.
“At this point, Vivi should just put you on the payroll as a technician,” Yerim tells her. “We need another person, anyway.”
“Yeah, Hyeju keeps complaining about not having enough help,” Jinsol says. “But I don’t mind helping you guys out. Doing deliveries all day gets boring.”
“Speaking of enough help,” Yerim says, “I’m gonna be helping Hyeju with the kilns when the summer workshops start, which means I can’t help Sooyoung during her classes anymore. You wanna fill in for me?”
Jinsol frowns. “I thought I was the one helping Hyeju with the kilns?”
“You have zero experience with kiln firing, Jinsol,” Yerim says politely.
“I also have zero experience with pottery in general,” Jinsol points out.
Yerim shrugs. “Honestly, you wouldn’t need it. Think of it like babysitting, but you’ve got a dozen kids covered in clay and one Sooyoung. I’ve already asked her, by the way, and she’s okay with you TA’ing instead of me.”
“That is quite reckless of her, not knowing what she’s agreed to,” Jinsol says.
Yerim shoves Jinsol’s shoulder lightly. “Oh come on, Jinsol. You’re great with kids, and besides, Sooyoung seems to like you.”
“I’ve barely said three full sentences to her the whole time I’ve been delivering here,” Jinsol says.
“Yeah, that’s probably why,” Yerim muses. “Anyway, you should go find her later and ask her about it. Sooyoung likes to have her shit planned out.”
“Will do,” Jinsol says. She hefts a bag of the reclaimed clay and asks, “Can I have this?”
“Sure,” Yerim says, then narrows her eyes. “Jinsol, if you use it to hand-build more custom accessories for your Gundams, I swear to God -”
“No promises,” Jinsol says, and runs.
She pokes her head into at least three studio spaces before finally finding Sooyoung in one of the empty ones, scrubbing trimming tools in the sink. Jinsol approaches her with the bag of clay cradled in the crook of her arm and says, “Hey.”
Sooyoung startles and holds up a craft knife, which she quickly lowers before Jinsol could even react. “Oh, my god. I thought you were Vivi.”
Jinsol grins. “Hence, the knife?”
“My life has been nothing but a whirlwind of misery and torment ever since she decided that I am too grumpy,” Sooyoung says darkly as she turns off the sink and dries her hands.
“Gee, wonder why,” Jinsol says. “Anyway, I heard that I’m gonna be your -”
Sooyoung holds up a hand and presses the other one to her temple. “Hold on. Give me a moment.”
Jinsol shuts her mouth and watches in mild concern as Sooyoung screws her eyes shut. She half expects the pottery wheels in the room to start levitating when Sooyoung opens her eyes again and says, “Jinsol, you look very energetic today.”
“Yeah, I had two liters of Monster this morning, and then Yerim let me operate heavy machinery,” Jinsol tells her. “Wait, was that my designated compliment?”
“I’m running out of material,” Sooyoung grumbles.
“It’s not that difficult,” Jinsol says. She gives her a quick discreet once-over, looking for things to compliment, and immediately feels overwhelmed by how objectively attractive Sooyoung is - doe eyes and full lips, with long faded-pink hair tied back in a loose ponytail. How did she never notice before? Jinsol collects herself mentally and thinks of something obvious and not too over-the-top. “Like this. Sooyoung, I think your eyes are really pretty.”
Sooyoung’s cheeks immediately flush rosy, and Jinsol wants to coo at how cute she looks but that would probably be too much. “That’s so cheesy.”
“Squeak squeak, bitch,” Jinsol grins. Sooyoung laughs, and Jinsol is blinded for a split-second by the first genuine smile she’s seen from Sooyoung. It’s stunning. She wants to see it again.
Suddenly self-conscious, Jinsol shifts her bag of clay to the other arm. “So… I’m gonna be Yerim’s replacement for your workshops?”
Sooyoung moves through the studio, collecting the bats from the pottery wheels. “I guess so. I really only need help with the kids’ classes, and it’s completely up to you how much you want to get involved, so -”
“Just give me your schedule and I’ll be here,” Jinsol says. “I want to see if my fine motor skills are better than a fifth grader’s.”
“The real question would be if you are louder than a dozen of them,” Sooyoung says. “Sometimes I have to get Hyunjin in the room to yell over all of them to get them to settle down.”
“Luckily for you, I’m good with kids,” Jinsol tells her.
“I can tell,” Sooyoung says as she dumps the stack of bats into the sink. “You’re holding that bag of clay like it's a small child.”
Jinsol looks down at the bag of clay she’s cradling in her arms. “Oh, that reminds me. This is for you.”
Sooyoung glances at the bag. “How’d you know I needed more recycled Amador clay?”
Jinsol did not know. “I’m a genius?”
Sooyoung smiles again as she wipes her hands on her apron and takes the bag from Jinsol. “Thanks. You know, usually at the end of the day after all my workshops are done, I spend about an hour just throwing forms on the wheel. It helps me unwind and sometimes I make some things to sell by the front counter. If you’re free by then -”
Jinsol gasps. “I can watch?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll teach you,” Sooyoung says.
Jinsol gasps again. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
“It’s your birthday?” Sooyoung frowns.
“Like, a month ago,” Jinsol says.
Sooyoung blinks twice. “Okay. Well, trust me, you’re gonna need some time to unwind either way after doing these workshops with me.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Jinsol says.
-
“Let me guess,” Hyunjin says as Jinsol joins her on the loading dock. “It was bad.”
“Well, for the first class of the summer, and for a dozen ten-year-olds with full creative freedom, it could be a lot worse,” Jinsol says, sitting next to her on a stack of pallets. “It was fun. I feel like Vivi exaggerates Sooyoung’s asshole tendencies.”
Hyunjin shrugs. “Yeah, Sooyoung’s not all bad, she just doesn’t have a brain-to-mouth filter which is hilarious because most kids don’t either. Was that your first workshop?”
“Yep,” Jinsol says as she checks her watch. “The next one should start in a few minutes. Honestly, I didn’t really do much, I just had a competition with the kids on who could clean up their wheels fastest. Kids love competitions.”
“Let me guess,” Hyunjin says, “you demolished them.”
“Hell yeah,” Jinsol grins as she high-fives the other girl. “Some of them couldn’t even reach the sink. Don’t worry, I made them form a line and lifted each one of them to wash their tools after claiming first place.”
“Did you make anything on the wheel?” Hyunjin asked.
“No, there wasn’t an extra one for me,” Jinsol says. “But Sooyoung’s gonna teach me how to use it after classes are done for the day.”
Hyunjin’s jaw drops. “She’s what?”
“Sooyoung’s teaching me to make clay things,” Jinsol repeats.
“No way,” Hyunjin says, poking Jinsol in the ribs. “Sooyoung never teaches anyone outside of her official schedules. Especially not for free.”
Jinsol knits her eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really for free. I’m thinking it’s like a compensation for me helping her out with the kids.”
“Sure, whatever,” Hyunjin says with a cryptic grin as she hops down from her seat on the pallet, “you should get to the next class, you’re gonna be late.”
When Jinsol makes her way back to Sooyoung’s studio, the next class is already assembled at their stations, ready to start. It’s not quite so loud yet, with them getting settled, and Sooyoung is crouched next to a little girl who looks terrified out of her wits. Jinsol stands in the doorway and hears Sooyoung saying softly, “Are you scared of the clay because it feels gloopy?”
The girl nods tearfully, looking at the fist-sized glob of B-mix on the wheel in front of her.
“I know it’s scary at first,” Sooyoung says, “but with clay, you can make whatever you want. It’ll become any shape you want it to. That’s why it’s gloopy. See?” She picks up the glob and quickly forms it into a four-legged, vaguely animal figure; Jinsol realizes that the little girl’s shirt is covered in tiny cartoon cats, which explains the wavering smile that she’s now mustering through her tears. “See? We’ll learn how to make whatever you want with the clay, Jayun, that’s why it’s soft and sticky like that.”
“Okay,” Jayun says timidly, and Sooyoung dries her tears with the corner of her apron. Jinsol feels an odd trembling in her chest as she watches them - Sooyoung’s expression is tender as Jayun looks up at her with unabashed admiration, and Jinsol is about to explode from how adorable the scene is. Then Sooyoung straightens up and suddenly calls out, “Atten…TION!”
The group of kids immediately sit up straight in their chairs and say in unison, “Ready!”
“Excellent!” Sooyoung claps her hands together. “Ah, my assistant Jinsol is here. Let’s get started!”
-
Jinsol’s collecting pieces that have finished drying from the day’s workshops when Sooyoung finds her. “Ready for your first lesson?” Sooyoung says.
“Yep!” Jinsol hefts the cardboard box full of lumpy mugs, bowls and various other forms that Sooyoung had taught the kids to make throughout the day. She picks out a particularly lopsided cup and holds it up. “Can we try making a cup? I want to see if I’m better than a ten-year-old.”
Sooyoung snorts. “That’s hard to predict. I’m gonna teach you how to throw a cylinder first, and we’ll go from there.”
Jinsol, understandably, is a bit apprehensive since she’s spent the better part of the day observing Sooyoung run all of her classes like the navy, so she made sure to pick up on some preliminary techniques. She lops off a good amount of clay from the bag on the counter and wedges it into a rough cone shape. Sooyoung sits beside her at the wheel as Jinsol smacks the clay down onto the surface of the bat so it sticks.
“So, I gotta center the clay on the wheel first,” Jinsol says. “I heard that this is the hardest part.”
“Yeah, if you don’t get this part right everything that comes after will go to shit,” Sooyoung says. “Put your foot all the way down on the pedal so it’s going full speed, and hold the clay in place in the center so it doesn’t wobble.”
Jinsol, after wetting her hands, places one hand in a fist on top of the lump of clay, and curls her other hand around the clay body. She kicks the wheel into full speed and applies as much force as her arms can muster.
“It’s fighting me,” Jinsol grunts as she leans into the wheel.
“Your hand placement is pretty good,” Sooyoung says. “Have you done this before?”
Jinsol squeezes the clay harder as it compresses down into a cake shape. “I did some studying last night on Youtube.”
Sooyoung squints at the clay spinning on the wheel. “I think that’s pretty much centered. For your first time, not bad.”
Jinsol grins. “You don’t need to do that compliments mandate around me if you don’t want to, you know.”
“Jinsol, is it so hard to believe that I’m complimenting you because I mean it,” Sooyoung says. “Besides, don’t get too comfortable. This is the hard part.”
Jinsol wracks her brain trying to remember what comes next. “Uh… making the hole?”
Sooyoung scrunches her nose. “Well, that’s part of it. I’ll walk you through it. Push your thumbs straight down in the center of the clay, and stop once you think you have about a quarter of an inch left of clay between your thumbs and the bat.”
Jinsol obliges. The clay is firmer than she expected, and her forearms are starting to burn. “How do I know when to stop?”
“For me, I’ve done it enough that I can kind of tell,” Sooyoung says as she pulls a long needle-like instrument out of her apron pocket. “But usually, you stop the wheel and measure it with this thing.”
Jinsol takes her foot off the pedal and watches as Sooyoung stabs the tip of the needle into the bottom of the hole she’s made. Sooyoung pulls the needle out and marks how much of the needle had pierced the clay. “That’s probably good enough. Let’s move on to the fun part.”
“You mean the hard part?” Jinsol questions.
Sooyoung gives her a wide grin, which catches Jinsol completely off guard. “That’s why it’s fun. Here, I’ll show you.”
She takes Jinsol’s hands and places them accordingly on the clay, kicking the wheel to spin at a slightly slower speed. “Steady,” Sooyoung murmurs, and Jinsol feels her scoot closer against her side for more leverage. “Move your hands upwards. Slowly.”
Jinsol feels the clay yielding under her hands as Sooyoung helps her apply constant pressure, squeezing the clay up to form a hollow cylinder. Really, Sooyoung is doing most of the work as she holds Jinsol’s hands steadily, since all the strength in Jinsol’s arms seems to have leached out of her. Jinsol glances over to see how closely they’re sitting together, Sooyoung practically pressed against her side. The view of Sooyoung’s side profile suddenly makes Jinsol’s breath catch.
“Jinsol, focus,” Sooyoung says without looking up.
Jinsol immediately snaps her gaze down to where the cylinder is slowly forming under their joined hands. Sooyoung really has such pretty hands. Jinsol feels herself getting distracted again and shakes herself. “Sorry.”
The cylinder reaches a maximum height of about four inches before it starts to wobble, to which Jinsol starts getting scared. Sooyoung laughs at her terrified expression and says, “All right, I think we’ve reached the limit. Can you grab the trimming needle? It’s in my front apron pocket.”
Jinsol rinses her hand in the water bucket before hesitantly reaching into Sooyoung’s pocket. Something pokes her and she jerks her hand out. “Ow!”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Sooyoung deadpans. Jinsol pouts reflexively as she pulls out the needle for Sooyoung to take.
“So, you pinch the lip of the cylinder like so,” Sooyoung says as she demonstrates, “and with the needle you trim off a bit of the top so it’s level.” She stops the wheel and picks up the bat with the cylinder on it. “Congratulations on your firstborn!”
“Fuck yeah!” Jinsol yells, pumping her fist. She forgets that her hand is still covered in a thick layer of wet clay, and some flies up and lands on her face. Sooyoung laughs and, holding the bat in one hand, gathers up the corner of her apron in the other and uses it to wipe Jinsol’s cheek.
Jinsol feels her heart shiver to a halt. Sooyoung is standing so, so close, and Jinsol can see the tiny freckles near her eyes, which are the prettiest shade of brown she’s ever seen. Jinsol says impulsively, “Your eyes are the same color as Laguna B3.”
Sooyoung blinks at her, then laughs. Jinsol feels like she just won the lottery. She doesn't know when or how Sooyoung’s laugh became her favorite sound, but it’s definitely in first place. “You really know your clays.”
Jinsol shrugs sheepishly. Her heart is working again, albeit a little faster than usual. That’s probably not normal. “Yeah, I learned a few things after doing deliveries here for a long time.”
“We’re probably Vivi’s longest-standing employees, actually,” Sooyoung ponders as she pulls a long wire out of her apron pocket and runs it under the base of the clay cylinder, cutting it loose from the bat. She holds it up and gives it a few turns, tapping the side. “I don’t see any recesses or thick spots. The walls and base seem to be an even thickness. Not bad for your first form, Jinsol, you’re officially better than the average ten-year-old.”
“Well,” Jinsol says, “I know I’m a natural, but I can’t take too much credit. You basically held my hand throughout the whole thing.”
Sooyoung shakes her head hopelessly, although Jinsol can see her ears tinge pink under her hair. “All right. Next time, no more hand-holding.” Jinsol immediately puts on her best mournful and pleading expression, devastated. Sooyoung shoves her away, still laughing. “Oh, stop it. Are you heading out soon?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna go find the whiteboard and add to the list of compliments, Jinsol is better at pottery than a ten-year-old,” Jinsol says as she washes the clay off her hands. “What about you?”
Sooyoung is busy rolling her eyes, but she answers, “I think I’ll walk home now too. See you tomorrow?”
“Yep,” Jinsol says, then frowns. “Wait, you’re walking home? Did something happen to your car?”
“It’s been in the shop for a while now. Nothing serious, just something wrong with the starter,” Sooyoung says. “I’ve been walking to the studio, but it’s not that far.”
Jinsol hangs her jaw open dramatically. “This is horrific. Sooyoung, it’s a million degrees outside. Let me drive you home.”
Sooyoung wraps the cylinder they made in plastic wrap as she knits her eyebrows together in deep thought. Jinsol once again puts up her patented mournful and pleading expression, although more hopeful than devastated this time. Sooyoung takes one look at her and immediately dissolves into that cute smile that Jinsol has suddenly become obsessed with. “All right, all right. You can drive me home, Jinsol.”
Jinsol gives her a thumbs up and heads out of the studio to find the whiteboard, and doesn’t do her victory fist pump until she’s safely out of sight.