Little Miss Mute (EDITING)

✿Chapter 05✿

Did you know? you can consciously pay attention to 7 bits of information in one second? Sounds like a lot until you realize the human eye can actually take in over 500,000 bits of info per second! The conclusion? You literally create your reality by what you pay attention to in life.

●●●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●●●

I glanced from where Felix had been, to the door, and back, releasing a resigned sigh. "I wish I could be that carefree," I mused, walking into my AP Biology class, momentarily forgetting my tardiness.

My intention wasn't to make a grand entrance at all. So when the class fell silent and eyes turned my way, I straightened up, acutely aware of their scrutiny. Some exchanged amused looks as they glanced from the door to me. I turned around, meeting the gaze of my young professor, his dark eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

"Ah, Mr. Dingman! Didn't notice you there, ha-ha..." I attempted a laugh, but it ended up more like a plea for help. Mr. Dingman slipped past me, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. "Just find your seat."

I nodded quietly, settling at the far back.

"Okay then! Roll call time!" Mr. Dingman declared. As soon as I sat down, he swiveled his hefty chair around, straddling it with determination.

His gaze swept the class with those large, dark eyes, and I couldn't help but notice that his eyelashes were longer than mine. It's not every day you come across a teacher who's not only an academic but also, well, a bit of a heartthrob. This guy, though—starting the class, and half of it, aka the entire female contingent, was already trying to sneak a peek at what lay beneath that wide-open white shirt, exposing a generous portion of his chest and, dare I say, some of his stomach too. I found myself wondering if he had a six-pack – not a topic I'd ever pondered before.

Of course, I don't particularly care about how good-looking the teacher is. My heart, to borrow a phrase, belongs to someone else.

Too bad he shows no signs whatsoever of actually wanting it. My heart, that is.

And the thing is that Robert is pretty incredible. I mean, it isn't just that he's a hottie. Oh, no. Robert's hot and funny. Every time I go to hang at the Igloo (his coffee shop) after school with Felix or by myself, which is more often than not, Robert happens to be there, he always has some flippant remark to make about the coffee shop or his customers or himself. Not mean or anything. Just funny.

And he's smart, too, because whenever he's not working on his laptop or holding conferences on Skype, he's at the bar reading. And not your typical leisure book, either. No Clancy or Crichton or King for Robert. Oh, no. We're talking stuff by guys like Nietzsche , or Kierkegaard.

I let out a hefty sigh, seriously, how could he be so flawless? The room was so quiet, and when I looked to the front, Mr. Dingman was giving me a stern look. "Are you back with us, dear?"

"Y-Yes?!" My heart nearly jumped out as I quickly distanced myself. "I'm sorry... what?"

"McMillan..." Mr. Dingman straightened, adjusting his glasses as he headed to his desk. "See the principal after class."

I blinked. Wasn't this a bit much? It was my first time zoning out in class!

Mr. Dingman seemed to pick up on my worry because he smiled. "Don't worry." He cleared some loose papers from his desk and perched on the edge.

One of the girls near me widened her eyes. "Oh my God," she breathed.

Even Elizabeth, the reserved girl at the back, was utterly captivated as Mr. Dingman stood there like a deity. A moment of silence enveloped the room. Words failed us all because, surprise, surprise, Mr. Dingman, beneath that seemingly mundane white shirt, was a bona fide hottie.