Woven Desires [Completed]

Quincey's Eyes

I wanted to keep my eyes on him for as long as I could, so I only ran off to class once Orson was out of sight. The math teacher kept us a bit longer because he still had some things to explain. Which meant that I had to rush like a crazy person to the next class, the one I hate the most, history class. Which also happens to be the only class Quincey and I have together. There's just one good thing about it. It's just before lunch, so all the the way through, that's the only hope we all hang on to. After this, it's lunch time. 

"Miss Dugray," the history teacher groaned as I entered hurriedly. "You're almost late."

"I'm sorry Miss Jenkins," I apologized out of breath.

She looked at me up and down, then rolled her eyes. She has singled me out ever since I entered this school. I don't know why. She's just a frustrated single 29 year old woman. Who for the record, and I'm not making this up, has a huge crush on Quincey. He is a year older than the rest of us, he's 19, but it's still wrong. Plus, I don't understand why she had to be our history teacher again this year. 

"Just go to your seat," she grunted like a cave woman.

"Yes Miss Jenkins," I replied with fake politeness.

It was the first class with her after summer break, and she was already uptight. Quincey calmly walked in ten minutes after the class started. Of course he didn't get scolded or nothing. In fact, she asked him if he had fun during the holidays. She openly gawks at him, it's ridiculous. 

I usually make sure to sit as far away from Quincey, as I possibly can. But that day, the only seat available  when he came in, was the one in front of me. I was sitting next to the window, fortunately Miss Jenkins was human enough to allow us to leave it open and let the summer breeze come in. 

As the boring class went on, I looked outside the window and noticed a white dandelion petal dancing to the beautiful melody of the wind. Flowers and dandelions are one of my favorite things about summer. I smiled as I watched it go up and down, doing it's own thing. The whistle of the breeze slowly faded after guiding the petal through the window of the class room. I watched the dandelion as it span around one last time before laying on Quincey's shoulder.  

My hand absentmindedly stretched out to pick it up, but I couldn't reach it. Miss Jenkins was talking and writing something on the white board, she had her back to the class. So I got off my seat a bit, and leaned forward to pick the dandelion petal off Quincey's shoulder. I intended to pick it without him noticing. But I stumbled a bit. As soon as my hand made contact with his shoulder, he turned around to look at me, and I froze. 

"Ah...Um...," I stuttered not looking away from his eyes, my hand still resting on his shoulder. 

The normal thing for him to ask would have been "What are you doing?" or "What is it?"  However, he didn't say a thing, he seemed a bit surprised at first, but then he just stared. 

Do I have something on my face? I thought. 

I felt the light wind blow in my hair, making some strands fall over my eyes, but I didn't have the reflex to put them back in place. Quincey had done that thing with his eyes again. Just like always, I wasn't able to read the expression in them, even though whenever he had that intensity in his gaze, I had the impression he was saying something. 

It was the same penetrating expression he had when he stared at me earlier that day, after I casually called him a "chronic latecomer". I'm still unsure as to what he was thinking. Was it because we hadn't seen each other at all during summer holidays? I mean, I know it's not like he missed me or anything. So was he reminding himself of what I look like? I don't know, things are sometimes weird with Quincey. He was doing the same thing in class, his unwavering blue eyes had locked me in, but I wasn't about to let myself slip away in them again... Never again.