Saving Elliot ✓

Chapter Five

A WEEK LATER, I had double chemistry on a Thursday morning with Mrs Rashid.

"Chemistry's too hard," Kopov groaned, "I like biology better."

"Oh shh," I said, "if I have to sit through two hours of Rashid then so do you."

Kopov pushed his dark hair back and pouted. "But I can't."

The door opened and Mrs Rashid walked in with a blank face. She went over to her desk and slumped down in her seat with a small sigh.

"Open your textbooks to page thirty-two," she said, her tone as dry as always.

Kopov leaned into me. He whispered, "You can just tell teaching is her passion."

I bit back a laugh. I pulled my textbook towards me and started flicking through to the assigned page.

"We're moving onto intermolecular forces," she announced and paused to let the class scribble down the new topic. Grabbing a black marker pen, she stood up and began scribbling on the white board as she spoke, "There are three types of forces that exist between molecules, Van der Waal's, permanent dipole and hydrogen bonding."

I propped my chin in my hand and tried hard to focus on Mrs Rashid. Five minutes in and I failed. My eyes wandered around the room, to the ceiling, outside at the skinny branches of the birch trees swinging in the wind and to Elliot Fintry.

He sat in the lab table in the far corner where the light flickered just for a quarter of a second. Leon, Chaudhry and Angeles sat with him, all three looking as bored as the rest of us but Elliot look bored. He looked pensive. So deeply lost in his own mind he didn't care to come out. He stared ahead, his eyes dark and unseeing.

"Am I boring you, Elliot Jensen?" Mrs Rashid said.

I jumped and looked up at herm

"No," I said, "Never."

"Elliot, you're sixteen years old now and in case you haven't notice you're also in sixth form. A Levels are a lot harder than GCSEs, you can't get a C or even D and above without putting in at least twenty hours of independent work after school. You need to listen."

I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I hated it when she did this. I nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Hm. Good. I need you to go to the storage opposite D23," she said, "there's some pink revision booklets in the white plastic box on the top shelf."

"Yeah. Sure."

I think I did pretty well in keeping my voice neutral and resentment-free. I slipped off my stool and as I walked out of the room I could feel Elliot's eyes on me.

The storage room, right opposite D23 like Mrs Rashid said, was about three doors down the empty corridor. It was cramped and smelt of dust and old paper. I glanced up and spotted the white box on the highest shelf. I lifted my arms and rose up on my tiptoes. My fingers just barely grazed the box. I grunted and tried to somehow stretch higher but - nope...nothing.

I looked around but there was nothing I could use to step on. Being five foot three had a serious disadvantage sometimes.

"You okay?" Said an all too familiar voice.

I frowned and decided to ignore him. I stretched up onto my tiptoes again. I was close I just needed to reach a little higher. I sensed Elliot standing behind me then. A large hand, warm and smooth, rested on my arm.

"Move," he said, pushing me to the side.

He lifted his long arms to grab the box and his shirt rode up, revealing pale skin and the black waistband of his boxers that read Abercrombie & Fitch in white letters. I swallowed and wondered. I wondered if his skin was smooth as it looked.