Chapter Nineteen
Hours
“Holy shit!” Ethan stepped back as the lithium ball from our experiment caught fire.
“Sit down Mr. Carter, before you burn down the laboratory with your glorious chemistry skills,” students from the class snickered as they heard Mr. Arkwood.
“Despite your criticism sir, I know you share a secret affection for me,” Ethan smiled adoringly at the teacher, “you’re always the first to arrive at my soccer games,” and then he winked, at Mr. Arkwood. Earning himself nothing but a shake of the head.
“I need you to clean these test tubes,” said Leela, hinting quite boldly for me to do it.
“Ethan, stop playing the teacher’s pet and clean the test tubes,”
He mock saluted me, “Right away ma’am,”
“Are you nervous for tonight’s game?” asked Leela.
He shook his head, drying his hands on my sleeve, and not budging as I swatted his hands away, “Nah. We’re all playing better now. I mean, Dylan is unstoppable, I guess due to a certain someone,” his eyes lingered on me, and I deliberately ignored him. “I’m playing better too, or so I like to think,”
I laughed, “So you’ve got a certain someone too?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugged.
“Please do tell,”
Ethan’s eyes twinkled, “Leela knows all about it, she’ll tell you,”
It was hard to notice under her bronze skin, but Leela had just turned a deep shade of pink. She crossed her hands over her chest, and stared pointedly at Ethan, “The test tubes. Wash them,”
*
It was the first time I had walked into English class after my presentation last week, right before I entered the classroom two arms grabbed my waist from behind.
“Missed me?”
I smiled, “Not really,”
Dylan spun me around, “Well I did, too much,” he kissed my forehead, his lips lingering a second longer and took my hand leading the way to our seats.
“After basing our previous classes in Shakespeare, I wanted to ask if any of you knew who was the inspiration for Shakespeare’s plays?” Ms. Yallow clasped her hands in front of her, smiling her blue lipstick at us.
“What do you mean?” asked an uninterested boy from the back.
“I mean Mr. Thompson, if you know who helped Shakespeare create his plays,”
Answers were shouted out, many of them too stupid to repeat and after a long wait I decided to raise my hand.
“Miss. Foster?”
“The Greeks. The Greeks tragedies explored the deepest human emotions, Shakespeare just expanded this concept in a different era,”
Dylan stroke his thumb over my hand, “Nerd,”
I slapped him playfully, “I’ve been spending too much time around you,”
“Very well Chloe! The Greeks were the masters in creating tragedies; can any of you give me any examples?”
Brendan’s distinct voice called from the back of the room, “Lysistrata,”
“Care to explain what it’s about Brendan?”
YOU ARE READING
Eight Letters. Three Words.
Teen Fiction"I don't feel anything towards Dylan Miller." Leela nodded, combing through the messy knots in my hair. "Whatever you say." "I'm serious!" "Look, just try not to move so much this time," she said, making me feel happy as she dropped the subject. "...
