"Here," I replied, my mind much more on scoping out my classmates than on the ritual mutilation of names.
Kayla had cut her hair over the summer, perhaps looking to cut ties with that guy from the private school she'd just broken up with. Rena Dalton seemed to be over her split with Zachary Hicks, and looking to move on, judging by the way she was eyeing Cameron Kilburn. That'd be a mess for me to deal with in terms of Zachary, but good on Rena! Cameron would be so much better for her than Zachary ever was.
Then again, even Elec would be better for Rena than Zachary ever was.
Thank God, the public usage dildo didn't actually seem to be in this class, contrary to what Matthew had (claimed to have) heard.
"Elec Jonquil?"
"Here," the incubus himself sang out as he sailed through the door, flashing Ms. Ferrous a cocky grin. "Sorry I'm late, ma'am."
Damn. It.
Ms. Ferrous pursed her lips disapprovingly, but made no move to put him back out in the hall, pointing him instead toward an empty seat - right next to me.
You're probably familiar with the saying "fight or flight." What you probably don't know is that it's misleading. There are actually three different instinctive responses to danger, the first of which is to freeze in the hopes that the Big Bad won't notice you. That's why the deer will stand petrified in the headlights rather than bound off the road or bite the car. It's also a major reason why human beings tend to find themselves in awful/awkward situations.
Situations like having to sit next to Elec Jonquil for an hour and a half every day for the next 180 days of the school year. Let's see... 90 times 180 equals roughly... 16,200 minutes of hell.
Okay, a little bit less since he was late today.
All because, instead of raising my hand and telling Ms. Ferrous that I'm allergic to man-whores or just getting up and moving to a different seat, I froze.
And Elec, all six-feet, blond, muscled, demonic, three-inches of him, sat down next to me.
He even had the nerve to smile.
I glared at him, and his smile widened.
I flicked my gaze back to the other students. If I ignored him, he'd go away, much like syphilis.
"Miss me, 'Nelia?"
Exactly like syphilis.
I let my eyes roam over the walls of the lab, assessing the posters with a mind to the implications for the class. They were all somber colors, spread liberally about the room, stacked double and over-lapped. Few pictures and lots of words indicated that Ms. Ferrous was strict task-mistress and tended to lecture. I mentally added 30 minutes of studying to my homework to compensate for my visual learning style; I don't do well when lots of words fly at me, and I'd need the extra book time to get a top-shelf A.
"Pssst! 'Nelia!"
I gritted my teeth.
"Cara Zapping," Ms. Ferrous concluded, almost not pausing to recognize the tall blonde's "here" before moving on to distributing a set of green papers.
I accepted my sheaf and pretended to peruse it.
A kick rocked my desk.
"Carne-e-e-e-elia...."
AP Chemistry Syllabus, I read, 2nd block, Jean Ferrous.
I jerked as someone (guess whom) jabbed me in the ribs.
"What?" I hissed, determined to feed him his teeth.
"Hey," he drawled.
I turned my head to slit my eyes at him, my jaw jutting forward.
He was reclining in his desk, his long jean-clad legs at full length. His large hands laced behind his blond curls in a typical male power pose that highlighted his pecs and triceps simultaneously. His red "I bite" t-shirt practically caressed his broad shoulders and chest. His lips pulled to one side in a self-possessed smirk. His green eyes met mine.
"You managed to fight your need to stare at me for an entire two minutes. You've improved your time considerably."
Arrogant prick.
"That's because the novelty of your misfortunate appearance is wearing off," I replied loftily. "Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the repugnance of your personality."
"Unfortunate, indeed," Elec replied, unfazed in the least, smile-smirk still in place, "Then you'd be out of excuses for denying your deep and abiding love for me, and then you'd be al-l-l-l mine."
I snorted.
"If you remove both of those items, there is no you and thus no yours. Come again soon." I began to turn back to face my desk, but paused. "On second thought - don't."
He grinned, and his arms dropped down to his desk and his legs pulled in as he leaned toward me.
"I'll let that little Freudian slip go, delicaie," he whispered, his low voice sliding under Ms. Ferrous's explanation of the syllabus (when had she started talking?) with ease. "What classes do you have this semester?"
I returned my gaze to the front of the classroom, where our esteemed teacher had pulled up an itinerary for the grading period on the SmartBoard and was going over it item by item, but left my body shifted into the aisle, leaving the conversation open.
"Afraid I'm going to pull farther ahead of you in class rank?" I taunted, my volume matching his, although, I fear, with much less effect. "I can't go much further up than number one, M. Numbre Deux."
"I'm absolutely terrified," Elec replied, not sounding so in the least. "But mostly, I just want to know how long each day I'll have the combined privileges of drinking your venom and gazing at your gorgeous... face."
I nearly gagged. Did he really think such transparent comments worked on girls?
I considered his popular status as school sex-god, and decided that, yes, he did think they worked, and perhaps the misconception was not entirely unjustified.
"Shove it through your heart, Elec," I whispered. "That comment doesn't even warrant me doing it for you. I've got French 4 Honors, this class, English 4 Honors with the Cane, and then Critical Analysis. If God loves me, this is the only class where you'll get your privileges."
I carefully made a note to set up an appointment as Ms. Ferrous pointed out that her desk was near the door and that all makeup work should be directed there within three days of any absence unless other arrangements were made with her. She probably already had my paperwork, but I found teachers were always more understanding about the side effects of my
condition when I spoke with them personally before they saw them first hand.
Warm breath tickled my ear and I jumped.
The infernal incubus chuckled.
"You and I aren't in the jurisdiction of the God of which you speak, Carnelia, so don't take it personally that I get privileges for the rest of the day, for the rest of the semester."
My face went slack.
I slowly rotated my head to stare at him, eyes wide.
He sat back in his chair, a satisfied smirk looking right-at-home-and-very-comfortable-thank-you-ever-so-much on his angular face.
"Come again soon, delicaie, and that's no Freudian slip."
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