You Tell Me

Chapter Two: Something in the Jungle

Biology class was very productive.  Not only did we discuss the moevment of human muscles, but I got to observe the movement of his muscles.

And we talked a little, too.

When I sat down at the desk, the wonderfully beautiful boy smiled at me and sneakily raked his eyes over me.  I acted like I hadn't noticed.

"You must be new here," the boy had said under his breath. 

"Yeah," I replied lamely.  Smirking a little, I said, "I mean, yes sir, this is my first day here, sir."

The boy scoffed.  "Teachers here are a little strict."

"Teachers?  I thought they were drill sergents."

We both giggled.  I observed the way his eyes danced and glittered when he laughed.

"So, where are you from?" he asked. 

I winced.  The point of my move was to escape the accusations of my old town.  The last thing I wanted was for people to judge me here the way they did there.

"Uh, I lived with my uncle," I mumbled.  The boy took the hint from my tone and dropped the subject.

Our balding teacher, whose name was Mr. Drake, passed out a worksheet for us to fill out while watching a fascinating tour of the human muscle.  At least that's how he described it.

As I was writing my name at the top of my paper, I caught the boy sneaking glances.  I looked up.

"You could just ask, you know," I teased.

He pretended not to know what I was talking about.  I sighed.

"My name's Nausica.  Nausica Germaine."

"Cool name," the boy said.  "It's got a ring to it." 

"And how shall I address you, sir?" I mocked.

"Tris," he said.  "Tristan Hawkins."

Tris smiled at me.  I wanted nothing more than to stare at him.

                                                                                          ~*~

Over the course of the movie, I had drawn a jungle on the side of my paper.  Intricate vines and flowers snaked over each other and wrapped around the page.  Tris was watching me the whole time, which pleased and embarrassed me.

He had started sketching about halfway through the film as I was drawing an exotic tiger lily.  At first I let him draw in peace, but when I noticed him looking up at me periodically, I gave in.

"What are you drawing?" I asked, putting down my Sarasa pen.  He jumped a little.

"Oh, um, nothing."

Yeah right.

I pretended to be engrossed in the film for a few minutes until Tris went back to drawing.  I took note of how frequently he looked up at me and was able to conclude that he looked up every three to four seconds.  I caught him on his twenty eighth glance.

"You're drawing me," I guessed.  More than guessed, I knew it.

Tris blushed a little.  He didn't say a word, just slid the paper closer to me.

I gasped.

On the page was a perfect replica of my profile.  My eyes were looking downwards, a row of thick eyelashes fanning out from the eyelid.  My lips were slightly parted; he had perfectly captured the exact fullness of my lower lip.  There was a soft curl spilling out from its place tucked behind my ear, and my hand was cupped around my face.  Everything was drawn with exact precision and exquisite detail, right down to the triangle of freckles on my left cheek.

"My apologies, Miss Germaine," he whispered.  I could feel his hot breath on my neck.  It smelled like peppermint.  "When I see something beautiful, I have to draw it."

I shivered.  Tris enticed me. 

But something about him put me on edge.

And I couldn't help but feel that I had seen those blue eyes before.