The Compass and the Quill [Under Revision]

2. The Fear of Wanting More

Quilla

My arms ached as I put the hair dryer down. Hair that long and thick was a menace to get dry in time. Why was I even doing this? Who cared if I did or didn't dry my hair? Nobody was going to worry about me getting a cold.

Still questioning myself, I reached up and grabbed the glossy white tresses. Chewing on my lower lip, I squinted at the instructions on my phone screen and began to partition my hair. Bravely pushing away the desire to just give up, I continued to weave my hair, heaving a sigh of relief when I could swing my braid over my shoulder and braid with my arms lowered. The hair tie went in after thirty minutes of braiding and re-braiding, and I had to admit that I was quite impressed with the results. I eyed the make-up on the dresser, but decided that I didn't want to push it today. I picked up my bag, grunting as I did so - why did I have to grunt? Who even grunted nowadays? I should stop sounding like a caveman.

Still beating myself up, I ground my teeth as I trudged to school. Were people looking at me? They always stared, but today weren't they staring longer than usual? Was it my hair? Did I look funny? Did I look scary? Did it make my face too prominent? Was I overthinking this?

The walk to school didn't reveal any answers. Keeping my gaze lowered as usual, I sighed as I made my way down the aisle students made for me. The students unfortunate enough to be in my homeroom stiffened visibly as I entered. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

As fate would have it, school passed by in a blur until it came to a screeching halt in Biology. I sat straight and stiff, waiting for my new benchmate. He came in late, ignoring Mr. Morrison's snarky remarks. For a fraction of a second, I raised my eyes to get a peek at his form, and I don't know why, but my world came to a halt.

Maybe it was so I could ogle him in peace. In the brief glance that I spared him, I took in all seven feet six inches of him, towering over everyone in the school. The t-shirt he was wearing hid the true musculature of his torso, but his arms were so perfect - not flabby, not too muscled, every muscle nevertheless defined enough that I could see them roll under his tan skin as he moved his bag off his shoulders.

A sudden flash of heat flooded my body, and suddenly, I felt a powerful urge to touch him.

That made the heat in my body intensify. I jumped as he threw himself into his seat like yesterday, grunting a little. I raised an eyebrow. So he grunted too? But then again, he was a guy. Weren't guys pigs anyway? They could grunt. I can't.

I had absolutely forgotten that my hair was tied back and Parker could see all the expressions that flitted across my face. I felt his mystified gaze on me, causing me to get progressively redder till I was positive that my skin color matched my eyes.

"Are you okay?"

My hand jerked violently. The pencil flew across the page, making several of the smileys I had been drawing look like pirate smileys or Chucky smileys. The jerk also caused my textbook to fall to the floor with a loud crash, turning every head in the classroom towards me.

I whimpered and shuddered at the unwelcome attention. I made no attempt to pick up my book, remaining frozen in my seat as the dead silence continued. To my intense chagrin, tears pooled in my eyes as my low confidence began to run in negative, forcing me to wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to make myself as small as possible.

"What? It's just a dropped textbook."

Parker's loud words echoed in the room, but they had the desired effect. Heads immediately returned to their original positions - well, all except mine, which was turned towards him in shock. I followed his movements as he bent down, picked up my textbook and placed it back on the desk, eyeing the smileys all over my notebook contemplatively.