Without The Words

Chapter 30

Mr. Elliot's gaze was hard and demanding. His tea-colored eyes read every bit of confidence, shadowed by his short but thick eyelashes.

"Why don't we start with your two-paged essay?" He asked as we advanced farther into the classroom. Circular tables surrounded us, each with supplies and sinks. He gestured at the table closest to his desk, and I sat down reluctantly, still flustered from kissing Mr. Lee.

"Uh- how do we communicate again?" He asked, turning around by his desk, scratching the side of his face. His question revealed informality, but just as easily as he said it, he shielded it by plastering a dauntless expression on his face.

I wiggled my finger in a writing motion.

"Ah- I see," he said. He bent down and began to rummage around in the drawers of his desk.

Feeling uncomfortable was an understatement. I have never used a notepad with Mr. Elliot except for a few times, so it seems that he had forgotten. Our class has always been so busy, mainly because a lot the assignments were self-explanatory and independent, so I never had to worry about being picked on to answer a question.

Mr. Elliot was clad in a violet colored shirt with a black tie and dress pants. His black hair was slicked back formally, his thick eyebrows matching perfectly.

He walked over to my table and took a seat next to me, placing a notebook and pencil in front of me.

"I'll help you out with the essay. How about the topic as the chemical origin of life?"

I awkwardly nodded and fiddled with my hands, my heart thumping loudly in the silence of the big classroom.

As time slowly ticked away, he helped me write the outline for the assignment, which oddly wasn't as bad as I had deduced. I avoided his gaze most of the time out of fear, but all the rumors I heard about him hadn't matched what was sitting next to me. Perverted? No- at least not that I knew of. Mean? Not exactly, but he was quite harsh every now and then. And although he was attractive, I didn't find his looks to be completely outstanding. They were typical, which was completely unlike Mr. Lee, who was the only man I had ever noticed with eyes the color of the ocean.

"I think it would be important for you to get all A's for your senior year. You missed the first three years of high school, and that is what a lot of colleges look at," he conversed. "And it doesn't exactly look good for me, seeing I'm the only class you currently have a B in."

I nodded again- how many times has I done that? I didn't know how else to react to him because I was the opposite of comfortable around him.

He placed his hand on my knee from under the table, my body immediately stiffening. His face gave absolutely nothing away. One hand resting on my knee, the other scribbling away with a pen. I shivered under his uncomfortable touch, his fingers awakening every nerve in my body.

However, that was all he did, and I relaxed when I realized that he was too pompous and stilted to ever do something worse. Or at least, that was what I hoped.

"We'll do this for a week, and if you finish the rest and the assignment fulfills all the requirements, I'll add in the grade which will most likely bring it up to an A."

Thanks, I wrote and showed it to him.

"No problem," he responded casually, his hand finally drifting away from my knee. I quickly got up from my seat and speed-walked out of the classroom. I shuffled down the hallway, replaying what just happened in the depths of my brain.

"Poppy?" His form came into view, and I shook my head to dismiss my overwhelming thoughts. "How did it go?" He asked, his eyebrows scrunched in concern. His glasses were perched on the edge of his nose, and his eyes were extremely dark, as if he were angry.