The new week arrived and began without incident. Then on Thursday afternoon, I had a free period and decided to work on one of my assignments in peace. I found an empty classroom, where I wouldn’t be disturbed, and set to work.
My essay on the inner workings of a modern day expressionist’s mind came along great. It’s amazing what you can get done without interruptions from well-meaning friends. I had almost finished, and was mulling over the essay’s conclusion, when a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
Before I had time to protest, Sebastian entered the room. He was still wearing the Ray Ban sunglasses, but there was no mistaking it was him. My stomach knotted, and I struggled to breathe. I tried to compose myself as I watched him approach.
“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to appear disinterested.
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” he answered in a gorgeous public schoolboy accent, soft and smooth like warm chocolate melting my insides. It was vaguely familiar. Had I heard it somewhere before? I raised my eyebrows, and he continued, “I saw you, you know, staring at me at the tryouts.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was looking for Beth,” I replied flippantly.
“And you found me…lucky break,” he said, perching on the edge of my desk. I couldn’t help noticing that the fabric of his jeans strained to contain his muscular thigh.
My mouth went dry, and I looked back down at my work, willing him to go away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him remove his sunglasses, but I pretended to ignore him.
“Did you see anything you liked?” He moved closer and leaned his head in towards my neck. His breath was warm and inviting on my skin, but it sent a ripple through me that brought me out in goosebumps.
I took a deep breath and turned to reprimand him, only to be met by those eyes. The eyes of my dreams. My pencil snapped in two and dug into my hand. I stared at him, not breathing, wanting to look away, but finding I couldn’t. The eyes refused to let go. He would have to be the one to move.
I struggled to release the words that clung to my throat. “I-I have work to do. Please leave me alone.”
He held my gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned off, he broke my gaze and jumped off the desk.
“Fair enough. I can wait,” he said, as he departed to join his cousin, who was leaning against the wall outside, waiting. I watched them disappear down the corridor, laughing and high-fiving as they walked.
Feeling oddly deflated, I tried to finish my assignment, but concentration eluded me. I couldn’t believe it. The eyes, they were his eyes! Why did they have to be his eyes? And why had I been dreaming about them for as long as I could remember? What did it mean? Was it some kind of premonition? I couldn’t stop picturing the high-five. It was like a victory celebration. Why would he do that? What was I? A game? A bet? A conquest to be had? Ugh. Why were boys so confusing? I had the headache of all headaches coming on, and I needed to talk to Beth.
YOU ARE READING
Foxblood: A Brush with the MoonFantasy
Complete at 75,000 words. One incident is all it takes to change your life. For Sophie it happened the day the fox attacked her. When Sophie moves to university, she is finally happy; reunited with her best friend and spending time doing the one thi...