I wanted to keep my eyes on him for as long as I could, so I only ran off to class once Orson was out of sight. The math teacher kept us a bit longer because he still had some things to explain. Which meant that I had to rush like a crazy person to the next class, the one I hate the most, history class. Which also happens to be the only class Quincey and I have together. There's just one good thing about it. It's just before lunch, so all the the way through, that's the only hope we all hang on to. After this, it's lunch time.
"Miss Dugray," the history teacher groaned as I entered hurriedly. "You're almost late."
"I'm sorry Miss Jenkins," I apologized out of breath.
She looked at me up and down, then rolled her eyes. She has singled me out ever since I entered this school. I don't know why. She's just a frustrated single 29 year old woman. Who for the record, and I'm not making this up, has a huge crush on Quincey. He is a year older than the rest of us, he's 19, but it's still wrong. Plus, I don't understand why she had to be our history teacher again this year.
"Just go to your seat," she grunted like a cave woman.
"Yes Miss Jenkins," I replied with fake politeness.
It was the first class with her after summer break, and she was already uptight. Quincey calmly walked in ten minutes after the class started. Of course he didn't get scolded or nothing. In fact, she asked him if he had fun during the holidays. She openly gawks at him, it's ridiculous.
I usually make sure to sit as far away from Quincey, as I possibly can. But that day, the only seat available when he came in, was the one in front of me. I was sitting next to the window, fortunately Miss Jenkins was human enough to allow us to leave it open and let the summer breeze come in.
As the boring class went on, I looked outside the window and noticed a white dandelion petal dancing to the beautiful melody of the wind. Flowers and dandelions are one of my favorite things about summer. I smiled as I watched it go up and down, doing it's own thing. The whistle of the breeze slowly faded after guiding the petal through the window of the class room. I watched the dandelion as it span around one last time before laying on Quincey's shoulder.
My hand absentmindedly stretched out to pick it up, but I couldn't reach it. Miss Jenkins was talking and writing something on the white board, she had her back to the class. So I got off my seat a bit, and leaned forward to pick the dandelion petal off Quincey's shoulder. I intended to pick it without him noticing. But I stumbled a bit. As soon as my hand made contact with his shoulder, he turned around to look at me, and I froze.
"Ah...Um...," I stuttered not looking away from his eyes, my hand still resting on his shoulder.
The normal thing for him to ask would have been "What are you doing?" or "What is it?" However, he didn't say a thing, he seemed a bit surprised at first, but then he just stared.
Do I have something on my face? I thought.
I felt the light wind blow in my hair, making some strands fall over my eyes, but I didn't have the reflex to put them back in place. Quincey had done that thing with his eyes again. Just like always, I wasn't able to read the expression in them, even though whenever he had that intensity in his gaze, I had the impression he was saying something.
It was the same penetrating expression he had when he stared at me earlier that day, after I casually called him a "chronic latecomer". I'm still unsure as to what he was thinking. Was it because we hadn't seen each other at all during summer holidays? I mean, I know it's not like he missed me or anything. So was he reminding himself of what I look like? I don't know, things are sometimes weird with Quincey. He was doing the same thing in class, his unwavering blue eyes had locked me in, but I wasn't about to let myself slip away in them again... Never again.
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.