Bending The Rules

Chapter 2

Bending the Rules (REDUX)

CH2
Author's note: Thank so much for the likes and follows! I really appreciate it!
Ana POV
The day passes by too quickly and it was my last class of the day. It was now or never.
Mr. Grey. Mr. Hot-As-Hell Grey.
Jose offered to walk me to my class after lunch and I had gladly agreed. I am nervous enough to go to Grey's English class, and know I could use a friend. "Don't worry about it," Jose smiled, "He's actually not as bad as I made him sound."
I nod, but it is pure bravado. "I'm not worried," I lie.
He smiles with amusement, "Okay, sure." Together we climb the stairs and try to push past all the people who are blocking the hallway. "We have to hurry if you don't want to be late," he says, and takes hold of my hand and pulls me through the throng.
I bite my lip and my body stiffens. Will it be rude if I pull my hand out of his?
"Maybe you should go to your class so you won't be late," I suggest, and hope that will distract him from holding my hand.
Jose shrugged, "She doesn't care if I'm late."
We walk the rest of the way in an awkward silence, and soon we reach a door at the end of the hall. "Here's your class, with a minute to spare," offering a little smile.
I smile back and this time and debated pulling my hand away. I know I will feel guilt if I rejected him again. "Thanks."
"Do you walk home?" he asks suddenly.
I nod, "It isn't far though."
"How about we meet here and I'll walk with you, I can show you around a bit, there's this really good burger place just-"
His train of thought was interrupted by the bell. And I was saved by it... I point to the bell and give him an apologetic smile. "Let's talk afterschool."
Jose nods sheepishly but neither of us made a move to leave.
Not until a teacher shows up at the door. "Rodriguez," he warns, "Get to class, and get your girlfriend to wherever she's suppose to be."
I slowly turn around to face the teacher. I know this voice. I had encountered it earlier in the day. My cheeks are burning and I know I was turning beet red. I expect to see his face, but instead I meet with his chest. He had been right behind me, and he seems much taller up close. When I tilt my head up, I did not believe that I could turn even redder. "I-I'm not his girlfriend," I stutter, though I don't know why I feel the need to tell him this.
"Mr. Grey," Jose smiled diplomatically, "I'm on my way to class; I just came to drop off your new student."
His gray eyes flash down to our still clasped hands. He raises an eyebrow and looks back up to me. He has the strangest vacant look on his face. What is his issue?
"You can go. Now," he adds icily.
"Right," Jose murmured, "I'll see you in a bit, Ana." Jose departs with a wave.
I look expectantly to Mr. Grey, whose eyes are fixated on Jose's retreating form. He then shifts and looks back to me. His eyes are more intense than anything I've ever seen, and suddenly I feel the urge to run back to my counselor's office to beg for a new teacher. I have never seen such stormy gray eyes.
"You're late," was all he said when he turned back around and motioned for me to come inside. "I assume you need me to sign something."
"Uh, yes," I struggled to pull out the sheet from my bag as I follow him to his desk. I try to ignore the class full of students who were most likely staring at me. I hand him the paper and he takes it without even glancing back.
"Take a seat Anastasia," he points to the desks while looking over my schedule. "The rest of you," he raises his voice for the entire class to hear, "Start on today's warm-up."
I stiffened and turned to the class. I did not want this attention. Rows of desks were already filled with students, but I distinctly noticed all seats near Mr. Grey's desk were already taken by giggling girls. I scanned the classroom for any empty seats. There was only one available almost all the way in the back of the class. Mortified, I slowly made my way toward it, almost falling over someone's bag on the floor.
"Careful there," a gentle voice said with a bit of amusement.
I cleared my throat quietly, "Uh, yeah. Thanks."
When I look up, I see the boy who spoke was the same one I was supposed to sit in front of. I sit down nervously and look around. Everyone was pulling out a notebook or writing down something. "Whoa, relax, I was kidding," the boy said, poking her shoulders. "You look scared as Hell," he murmured.
"I kinda am," I whisper back.
I hear him laugh softly, "Don't be; this class is great actually—if you don't mind the girls throwing themselves at Mr. G."
"I don't mind," I say, not turning to look back at him.
"Then you're good, besides it gets funny when he completely ignores them."
What do I say to that? "So um... what are we suppose to do?"
He pats me on the shoulder. "Here." When I turn around I see him handing me a sheet of paper. I take it even though I have had plenty in my bag. "Every day we have a warm-up which is to basically write something about a paragraph long and turn it in at the end of the week."
"Thanks," I say and turn forward.
"Prompts are there on the board," he added.
I look at the board and see three bullet points written in the most beautiful cursive: The Extraordinary, What Sadness Truly Is, and Is Death Final.
I choose the first one and begin to write. Luckily words come easily to me—especially with topics like the ones listed. I practically lived in the school library back in Texas...
"Anastasia," Mr. Grey's voice rang out. He waved the paper up once and placed it back on his desk, tacitly telling me to go get it. Really?
Trying to keep from grumbling, I walk up and take the paper from his desk. Why is he so demanding? "I'm printing out all the work you've missed. You have a lot of catching up to do."
My eyes shot up in surprise, "I have to do everything you've covered from the beginning of the year?"
Mr. Grey let his hands fall on his desk and pulled away from the keyboard. "You don't have to do anything Anastasia. You should be doing it, but if you don't mind taking English again next year, then tell me now so I won't waste my paper, my time, and my ink." He clipped the words out, stressing each one clearly like a command.
"Ana," I challenged, "I go by Ana." I will not be apologetic.
He turned to me with an incredulous look on his face, "Excuse me?"
"I mean—I will do my work. But I prefer that you call me Ana instead."
He shook his head and focused back on his screen. Not sure with what I should do next I just stood there and tugged on the hem of my sweater. "Go sit," he ordered. "I'll bring your work to you."
The girls next to his desk were smirking at me, obviously enjoying the spectacle. I'm so glad I amuse you... I walk back to my desk and attempt to avoid lingering stares.
"You know, it's best if you just answer with a 'Yes, Sir' to anything Mr. Grey says," the boy behind me advises as I take my seat.
"I'll take note," I release a breath that I did not know I held. I look at the clock above the desk and wonder how long this Hell is going to last.
Christian POV
I covertly watch Ana walk dejectedly back to her seat. I sense her unease and take no comfort in it. It's obvious that she can't see me, but I do not want other roving eyes witnessing this. I knew that I had a new student on my roster. Anastasia Steele. I was surprised however; that this is the same waif that I caught earlier roaming the halls. Even after I left her and demanded she go to class, I stopped around the corner and watched her. I had to berate myself and remember that she is a student.
But she instantly intrigued me; and this thought bewilders me. She is unlike the typical female students I teach; the insincere overachievers who shoot their hands up in the air to be the one to answer questions and the flighty blonds who slyly attempt force eye contact with their fluttering eyelashes. This is tiresome and I am neither flattered nor affected by it. It is mundane in its entirety.
She seems oddly oblivious. Her style is a total reversal from the others; severely outdated and drab clothing. Her clothes are ill-fitting. Either she lost noticeable weight or she is wearing hand-me-downs. Her tan shoes are simple Mary-Janes with scuffed toes. Her long hair is a plain brown and seems a bit unruly. She keeps it tied back in a simple band with jagged bangs sculpting her face. Her face is devoid of any make up. As if she needs it. Men and women both spend billions each year to achieve this, and Ana comes by this naturally. Her lower lip is slightly incongruent with the top, but the rouge in her cheeks is natural. But with all of these qualities she has a startling and understated beauty. I shake my head at the thought.
Her crystal blue eyes are so damn expressive. I have seen her startled; I have seen her angered. She can attempt to hide her nature by blending in with the woodwork, but her eyes can't be muted. They are beacons in a rough sea. She is simply exquisite, to say the least.
Seeing her holding hands with Jose shocked me. I was startled by the instant sting of jealously. I had a knee-jerk reaction that I quickly covered with my usual terse teaching style. I was fighting for control and even baited her by referring that she was Jose's girlfriend. My inner green-eyed monster was slightly mollified by her denial of their relationship.
I called her to my desk; any reason to have her near. She had a hint of a soft floral scent which added essence to her body which was robed in such opposite dress.
The real surprise that impressed me was her steely resolve; it truly matches her name. Anastasia Steele. She took offense to being called Anastasia and had the gumption to correct me. Kitty who thinks she's a tiger...
But sadly, all of this will come to nothing. She is a student and is beyond my reach.