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𝑶𝑵 𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑾𝑨𝒀 to building four, Ryan did nothing but whine and complain like an annoying ass child the whole way there. Walking into the classroom and noticing my table was empty, I immediately slumped my shoulders with relief. And the uncomfortable knot in my stomach began to unravel.
As I made my way to my station and sat down, I watched Mr. Wayne walk from one side of the room to the other. He was dispensing a box full of slides and one microscope for each table. The room began to buzz with conversations as people started to pile into the room. Class hadn't begun yet, so I kept my eyes in my binder, numbering the corners of the pages, and pretended like I was too occupied to hear Ryan trying to get my attention from the back of the class.
My body was on full alert as I felt a light breeze brush past me, sending goosebumps to my covered skin. I tensed my back and clenched my stomach as I heard the chair forcefully scrape across the floor. Clearly, he was trying to get my attention. But I simply kept my eyes on numbering page fifty and occasionally added doodles to the number.
"Good Afternoon," a deep melodic tone said.
Bro. What. The. Fuck. I turned to look at him with a dead expression. But I'm pretty sure the shock was written in my stiff body. He wasn't sitting any closer to me than he had the first day I sat next to him. His chair was at the very end of the table angled toward me as if he was invested in whatever he was about to say. But his large pale fingers gripped the edge of the table as if he were getting ready to bolt at any moment. His hair was slicked back, cascading down his back.
All the while making his masculine features more prominent. Even after playing in the snow with his siblings, he was still well kept together. Not one single hair out of place. Like a male model that had just gotten done with a winter photo shoot. Except for his damp hair, of course. His marvelous face was open and inviting, not necessarily friendly, but friendlier than last Friday.
His lips were curved a bit into a tiny smile, displaying cute dimples on each side of his unblemished lips. Though his eyes were full of caution, I could tell he was trying to appear approachable.
"I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Marcelo Salvador," he resumed. And you must be Gabby Swanson." I felt my lips part with shock. I was almost confused! There's no way this man in front of me was the same hostile person I had met on Friday. He was so perfectly polite that I was starting to wonder if my mental state had created the whole thing instead of actuality. I sat there with my mouth partly open like a gaping fish. No words came to my brain that I could differentiate. The whole time I struggled on finding a response, he looked at me with nothing but patience and amusement.
"Y- you know my name?" I tripped out.
He chuckled, a low, dazzling sound.
"Well, everyone here knows your name. Including the whole town, of course. I would say we've all been waiting for your arrival, but that sounds somewhat cultish."
