Cross My Heart

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO @OptimisticWriting for making an amazing book cover for my story. Check it out (it's attached to the bottom of this chapter)!! I want to thank you for the time and dedication it took to make this! 

Guys, let me know what you think of this cover in the comments :) 

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JEREMY

I winked and the girl blushed.

"...And it's not only love but a strong sense of community within a pack that makes them such fierce predators. Yes, they protect the females as they are the source of mating and fertility within the pack, but protection is also extended to the weakest links of the pack such as the sick or injured," Beckett said, presenting her take on the philosophy of love in terms of the behavior and hierarchy within a wolf pack.  Or something like that. It's not like I was paying attention.

"Isn't that just part of evolution instead of an act of love? Protecting members of your pack?" Mr. Finch asked.

I was subconsciously aware of the girl's hand on my shoulder, slowly trailing down my forearm. 

"Evolution is definitely part of it. But what else would motivate such a fierce sense of protectiveness. Can't it be attributed to the chemical release of the hormone dopamine, otherwise know as the emotion of love?" Beckett responded. 

"Very well articulated, Miss Tavora," Mr. Finch said, shaking his head approvingly as he jotted down his thoughts about the presentation. "You and Scarlet mentioned the mating within the pack. Would you care to elaborate on the connection between mating and love?"

Beckett looked to Scarlet and nodded. 

"Well," the girl named Scarlett said, "in terms of mating, love is strongly tied into it-"

I was suddenly aware of the girl's hand on my thigh, slowly creeping towards dangerous territory and sending tingles down my leg. 

"...it definitely has to do with sexual urges but it also deals with the fact that wolves only mate with one female the reminder of their lifespan, which can be associated to the monogamy present in wolf packs but also the lov-"

Before the girl's hand could travel any lower, I swiped it away and she yelped. The entire class's attention was now trained on us. The girl blushed and hid her face in the curtain of her hair, while I took deep breaths, trying to calm the unwarranted surge of energy in my pants. 

"Is there a problem, Mr. Drake? Miss Jefferson?"

I looked up and met Mr. Finch's disapproving gaze. He looked like an intellectual who had his copy of Plato ripped from his hands. Then, my eyes shifted to Beckett. Immediately, I felt the same nagging pang of guilt that I had the night of the party as I watched her angrily walk away. She had been furious. The look in her eyes one of incredulity.

As I looked at her now, I scanned her face for any trace of emotion. Anger. Hurt. But there was nothing. Her face was a mask of calm and her eyes unfeeling. And somehow, that made me feel worse. She was indifferent. 

 "Mr. Drake, I'm used to this kind of behavior from you but Miss Jefferson," Mr. Finch continued, his eyes shifting to the girl to my right, "I'm sure your father wouldn't like to hear that his daughter is creating disruptions in class. If I were to go next door right now and inform him of your actions..." He paused. "You know how much Mr. Jefferson hates having his class interrupted."

My eyes momentarily flickered to the girl - Gemma was it? - as she turned a darker shade of red before I re-focused on Beckett. She had her hands crossed over her chest and looked to the floor, as if the tiles on the floor were far more interesting than this conversation.