The Moonlit Series

Chpt. 2: Punched. Again.

A/N: Long chapter guys!!

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~Pip Pip Da Doodly Doo~

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Surprisingly, the day (and the one before) hasn't been to bad. Yes, Sophie is whimpering non-stop because of the 'rejection'. I keep telling her that he will crawl back to us soon, but she still goes on. My heart too feels a little heavier, but I can deal. I know that all will be well soon enough.

That was all true until I stepped into the community center again today. There is a different art class today with a different teacher that I thought I would try. I was very surprised to see Daric sitting in the back of the class. Right behind the only other open space. My day has been great since I knew I wouldn't have to see Daric until he manned up.

The second I walk through the door, he eyes zero in on me. For a millisecond, I see pain in his eyes, but it is quickly replaced by anger and fake disgust. My feet feel like elephants as I trudge to what will now be my seat for the next... however long this class will be.

I gingerly sit down as if my seat is made of porcelain, and if I sit too quickly, the weight will shatter it into millions of little pieces. I then proceed to lean as far forward as I can without looking like extremely awkward.

Mr Travis, the teacher of this class, closes the door and walks to the front of the room. He introduces himself and what we will be doing today.

I tap my foot and chew on my lip. I look at the clock.

30 seconds into the class.

I mess with the supplies in front of me and tap my pencil. I look at the clock.

1 minute into the class.

I write down something Mr. Travis says will be involved in today's lesson. I look at the clock.

2 minutes into the class.

Mr. Travis hands out worksheets, counting out the number of papers for each column. I take the paper from in front of me and pass one backwards to he who shall not be named. His fingers graze mine, and I feel the legendary mate sparks. I look at the clock.

5 minutes into the class.

Okay, are you kidding me! It's only been five minutes? That clock must be wrong. Very wrong. The minutes must actually be, like, 5 minutes or something! I can promise you that I have been trapped in this room for an hour already, or close to it!

I groan and slam my head onto the desk top. I hit harder than I meant, and the noise rings through the silent classroom, along with my muttered "ouch". I sit back up and rub my forehead with red cheeks as I notice half of the class looking at me.

Mr. Travis gets the class's attention again and resumes the lesson. He drones on and on about color. Behind me, you can hear a consistent tapping of a pen or pencil. It is starting to drive me nuts! It's just going tap, tap, tap TAP! I won't say anything about it. No, that would involves talking to him. And I refuse to do that right now. I rub my temples in an attempt to prevent the impending headache.

Finally, once Mr. Travis finishes teaching and tells us to start on our painting, the tapping stops.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson." Mr Travis calls.

"My I be excused." His deep, rich voice calls back. I promise you, I can feel his breath on my neck even though I know he is not that close to me. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Sure, just hurry up." Mr. Travis tells him.

In a cloud of intoxicating pine needles and lavender, he walks past me. I notice as he puts his pencil in his back pocket as he walks down the aisle. I turn around and notice that all that is left at his desk is his worksheet.. I turn back around just as he closes the door behind him. I guess I won't be seeing him for the rest of the day.