'Moon Shapes'

Chapter 3: Part 2 (Dannity)

Blayke's smooth voice threw me back to the four white walls surrounding us (breaking my imagination, which had gone and ran franticly amuck) to give us an essay assignment. Can't seem to concentrate no longer than the minutes I can count on one hand.

Is he some kind of... spellcaster?

Can he have some power over the entirety of the students that are enclosed with him?

I must quit with the overreactions. It could be he is just that heart-throbbish; an unabandoned, appealed attention to every eye that finds their way on to him.

I can almost be certain at this point; I may have a creep vibe jabbing my brain.

I clogged the thinking internally, in moments of catching Blayke strolling onto the far-left Isle. He had elegantly strolled up on the other side of the customary classroom.

"I want you to go out and find some actual myth that is founded... originated here or near our little ole town, and make sure that it is a real myth. Not some myth that is fabricated because you are too lazy to do the research."

Several girls (and two guys) went google-eyes as he strolled passed them. On any other given day who could blame them.

Even from across the room, he was very much a sight to view. His black, buttoned-down collar shirt left really nothing to the imagination, giving everything of his solid physique, away. Turning slightly, I could - I'm sure we all could - see his pants were very fitting (not that 'ewe' they are too tight kind of thing) with a curvaceously visible tight-looking-tuckous. Good grief! Though seeing through the visage, he was convincingly putting out, there was no denying he took some pride in showing off - damn my cootch, I had to admit - there is a slight heaven after all.

Stepping onto the level I sat on; I noticed immediately he wasn't looking to anyone else. He was locked on me. It kind of looked as though an angel (with resemblance of a Greek god, or some prince of...of...somewhere beautiful that I can't think of at the moment) coming to salvage me from my own mess of a life.

I couldn't help but get suddenly cautious at how easily fawning over him had become; this was a completely altered character that felt as it had taken over my own free will.

Was it that effortless on his part or was this how he embedded himself - as like one of those cognitive controlling wormy-bug-things (that gruesome thought shot shivers up and down my vertebrae).

Half-way across the aisle he stopped and looked at his watch, triggering a quick smirk. "Alright, you guys. Professor Taylor should be back next week, so be prepared for anything. You are free to take off."

Almost simultaneously everyone shot up in a heave and flung themselves out the door. Except I, whom sat for a moment overwhelmed.

It may be quite possibly I was outnumbered by my fellow classmates to even bother squeezing out that tiny framed door. With the not so-there-kissing boy experience not but an hour ago, with now this sudden mystery of how absorbed I had become for the professor's T.A. - that is until the interest reached me.