Woven Desires [Completed]

Quincey's Eyes

I slightly shook my head, then sat back down, and showed him the dandelion petal.

"This... er... this was on your shoulder."

He finally stopped looking at me to set his eyes on the petal I held between my thumb and my index finger. He leaned his back on his chair and rocked it, until it touched my table. Then using his left arm to lean on the table, he held my wrist with his right hand, and gently pulled me closer to him. Once I was leaned forward, he moved up from my wrist to cup my hand in his. He slightly tilted his head, and proceeded to examine either my hand or the petal, I'm not sure, but I bet on the petal.

What's he so amazed about?  I thought, trying to ignore the soothing warmth that was emanating from him. It's just a... dandelion pe... my inner voice trailed off disconcerted by the docile squeeze I felt on my hand.

Was it my imagination? It felt weird to have his hand wrapped around mine. He looked back at me after what seemed like forever. Imprisoning my eyes in his again, he hooked his index finger around the top of mine, separating it from my thumb, to free the petal. But as my eyes were still stubbornly stuck to his, I didn't bother to watch the dandelion dance away in perfect sync with the melody of the wind. Because at that moment, Quincey had managed to reel me in, and once again make me forget my firm resolution. I don't know how to explain. The thing is, there's something in Quincey's gaze, something I avoided like the plague.

"Miss Dugray!" 

I flinched at the sound of Miss Jenkins' horrible voice calling my name. We both turned to her, but Quincey was still leaned on my table firmly holding my hand. I immediately tried to remove my hand from his, but he didn't let go.

"Hey!" I motioned that I wanted to be freed. 

"Oh," he realized once he turned back to me that he was still holding on to me. 

So he let go, and sat back properly. 

"Stand up," Miss Jenkins said sternly.

"Me?" I asked pointing to myself. 

"Who else?"

What about the person who wasn't in the right position? I thought to myself.

I heard the others murmur, insulting her under their breath for her glaring evilness. She was openly being a bully. Then again, when power or authority, is placed in the wrong hands, it's used unfairly.

"Come to the front," she ordered, once I was on my feet. 

I let out a frustrated sigh.

"With a better attitude please."

I clenched my fists and breathed in.

"Yes Miss Jenkins."

Once I got to the front of the class, Miss Jenkins moved to the side, folded her arms across her in-existent chest, and looked at me. She let me stand there like a dummy for a while before she spoke.

"Last year we talked about the European Union," she finally started. "Tell me the main purpose of the Maastricht treaty we tackled, and the year it was signed."

I couldn't believe it. She is such a horrible person. I'm a good student, I take time to study well, because I like having good grades. But that was too much, so out of the blue. Tackle is the exact word, that was all we did, we hardly dwelt on it. However, I vaguely remembered, but I needed a little something to make the memory pop up, even the date was blurry. 1992? 1997? 

"Hurry," she snarled at me. "We don't have all day."

Argh! I bit my lip, looking down at the floor. What was it again?

I heard Quincey clear his throat.

Is he mocking me?! I looked up at him.

He did something I didn't expect from him. On a blank white paper he discreetly held up, he had written in bold: 1992 Currency + Citizenship.

I raised my brows, and he hid the paper, understanding that I got it. I looked back at Miss Jenkins full of confidence.

"The Maastricht treaty was signed on the 7th of February 1992 by the members of the European community," my voice was steady and clear. "It led to the creation of the single European currency, euro. The other important outcome it led to was introducing the concept of European citizenship. The Maastricht treaty has subsequently been further amended by the treaties of Amsterdam, 1997, Nice, 2001, and Lisbon, in 2007."

Burn! I mentally whiped my hair. In. your. face.

Everyone, including Quincey, clapped for me, and I rolled my lips to prevent myself from smiling. Miss Jenkins came back to the front, not saying a word and gave the class a death glare, so the applause stopped. I went back to my seat hearing some of them whisper to me: "Good job," "You showed her", "Amazing." I nodded to them, still trying to keep my cool. 

Once I was seated, Quincey, looked back at me over his shoulder. He smiled to me, not the usual smirk, mocking smile, or sly look. He just smiled and whispered, "Good job". 

I couldn't help but smile back, I shrugged acting like it was nothing, a piece of cake. Then his smile grew wider revealing his teeth under his groomed scruff. Miss Jenkins knocked on her table, pulling us away from each other. Quincey turned to the front again, and the class continued as usual. 

I couldn't remember the last time we had genuinely smiled to each other like that. It had been a while. I was already avoiding him even before the ticket incident of last summer, because of a situation... I will not talk about here. A smile reappeared on my face as my mind replayed the image of him telling me I did a good job. 

However, I suddenly remembered Kathy, the bomb I had activated earlier, and my smile faded. For a moment I had forgotten about her. 

Ugh... What did I do? 

I knew that was the kind of thing that would set him off. Which is why I did it to begin with. I wondered how angry he was going to be. As I imagined him calling me a "spoiled insensitive brat" all over again, for the rest of the class, my stomach turned. But I tried to ignore the cramps, I convinced myself that I couldn't care less, that it didn't bother me one bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Episode 5 - Preview:

"Um... Quincey?" I called him desperate and nervous.

  I felt my forehead getting sweaty.  

"Yeah," he turned away from Kenneth to face me.

But I didn't say anything. I tried to think of what I could say, many things went through my mind, however it was too late, the bomb was going to explode in less than ten seconds. I have no idea as to what kind of expression I had on my face, but it seemed to worry him.

"Shannon? Hey," he said softly. "Are you OK? What's wrong?"

By now, the others had turned to us, wondering what was going on.

"Um...," I uttered, still not knowing what to say. "I...er..."

"Heyy pretty boy," Kathy purred once she arrived.