"...and ${name}, you'll be partnered with Vivian."
You feel your heart sink the second the words leave the teacher's mouth, risking a glance across your desk at the girl who's going to be your home economics partner for the rest of your senior year. You find her glaring back at you, wearing a thoroughly irritated expression, seeming just as displeased by the prospective partnership as you are. You gather your things and make your way over to the workstation you'll be sharing with her, dreading the uncomfortable hour to come.
An aloof, antisocial girl, Vivian's appearance is almost as awkward as her social manner. Tall and lanky, she towers a head higher than most girls, and moves with a graceless clumsiness, as if she's still not quite comfortable in her own body. Her long face is framed with a plain, straight brown haircut, her lightly freckled features set in a perpetual scowl. Her mannerisms, as with her speech, are brusque and standoffish; even now, she slouches against the bench with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently at your approach.
"Hey." you offer, setting your textbook down on the bench with an apologetic smile, hoping to break the ice.
"Let's get on with it." she responds tersely, shoving a mixing bowl against your chest.
Wordlessly, you take an egg from the bench and get to work cracking it into the bowl, but you're not much of a cook, and you fumble, only managing to dent the shell. You give it a second try, then a third, gradually becoming aware of Vivian's eyes on you instead of her own mixing bowl.
"Seriously? Here." she groans in exasperation, rolling her eyes. Snatching the bowl and the egg from your grasp, in a single fluid motion that seems at odds with her usual discomfort, she expertly cracks the egg into the bowl.
"Huh. I didn't figure you for the cooking sort." you comment offhand.
"I'm not." Vivian protests, setting the mixing bowl back down and turning away from you, but not before you notice the furious blush in her cheeks.