Forbidden Enchantment (Book One)

Forbidden Enchantment: Chapter 7

[Shorter than the rest, but I was quite busy this week! =P Vote and comment please?]

Recap...

‘Now class!’ Ms Keene scolded lightly, and the class shut up quickly. They obviously had a lot of respect for her. ‘Heather, would you like to tell the class anything about yourself?’

I sighed. Here we go again. Stage One: The Wonderful Beginnings.

‘My name’s Heather. I’m seventeen. I like black, cats and ducks. Rabbits are gay and the world will end in 2012. That about it.’

It was the perfect way to shut them all up, and this time was no different.

>>>>>>

Chapter Seven

After a pregnant silence, Ms. Keene coughed. ‘So you seem to be very...’

Crazy. Weird. A nutcase? I went through the possible answers in my head as she thoughtfully put a hand to her chin, as if searching for the perfect word.

‘Strong minded’, she finished with a friendly smile.

I looked at her, slightly shocked. ‘You could say something like that’, I grinned, thinking that maybe, just maybe, we would get along after all.

Ms Keene had taken her attention off me, and was now addressing the class as a whole. ‘Now class, today, to kick-start the academic year-’

Before she could even finish her sentence, the class had let out a wholesome groan, with pleads of ‘Ah, Miss!’ to be heard from the majority of the students. I watched, bemused, as Ms Keene grinned at them.

‘Hey, this will be fun’, she said, stressing the word ‘fun’. ‘I want you all to pair up with a partner and do a...well, not a report as such, but more of a project on your favourite writer. It may be because you admire them yourself, or because other people do. They can be dead or alive, or whatever. As long as they have written a piece of literature, then I do not mind who you do the project on’. She looked down at some of the boys as she said this, which seemed to belong to the sporty, jock-like group. ‘That does not mean you can write it on some sports player or singer that have written their own autobiography or something. They have to have written poetry or fiction; what I would call literature. Everyone okay with that?’ She looked around the room to see if there were any questions. Satisfied, she sat back down in her cushioned chair, and began ripping a sheet of paper in many parts.

The class groaned profoundly at this, some even muttering that fifteen minutes of the first class of the year hadn’t gone by, and they had work to do.

‘Moaning will get you nowhere’, Ms Keene laughed, continuing to rip the sheet of paper. I could not help but smile at her. As if she knew I was looking at her, she glanced up at me then, and gave me wink.

‘Miss, do we get to choose our partners?’ a boy called out, his eyes lingering dreamily on the back of a girl, sitting two chairs ahead of him, on his left. Obviously, he had been in La La Land dreaming about the blondie for so long, that only minimal amount of information had passed into his brain.

Miss sighed dramatically. ‘No, John, you cannot choose your partners, hence this’, she lifted up a scrap of paper. ‘And no, you will not magically be paired up with Molly, just in case you’re wondering.’

John’s gaze, which had drifted back to Molly’s back suddenly shot to Ms Keene, with an aghast look on his face, as if to say WHY!?

Molly, presumably, turned behind to John and gave him a disgusted look before attending back to her nails, which in her opinion, seemed to be much more important. As I glanced at Molly, I instantly categorised her into her position with the school hierarchy. **Drum roll please** School Slut!