sex, drugs, and Isaac Newton (newtmas)

chapter 5 - chemistry

The beat of knuckles on the door break me out of my daze, and back into the dreary classroom. the person on the other side of the door is a receptionist, I think her names Brenda, but I'm not too sure. She enters with a cocky smile on her face,

"I'm here for Thomas, he has a chemistry meeting." She says, looking around and settling her gaze on me. I have no idea what she's talking about, but I go along with it, anything to get me out of this place.

"I'm lucky you're the only Thomas in your year," she says as I follow her down the empty corridor. "Newt didn't know your last name." She holds the door open to the back of the school, and I think I realise why I hadn't heard of this chemistry meeting until a few minutes ago. I start to speed up as I near where I had spent yesterday's lunch time, and my heart almost stops as I turn the corner and see the top of a scruffy blonde head, a tattered hoodie, and skinny jeans. He looks up at me, a pleased smirk spread across his face; and as his golden eyes meet mine, I blush, remembering my thoughts last night.

He doesn't say anything, just pats the space next to him - a friendly gesture, I guess. As I sit down he leans his head back and let's out a big sigh. "you got my message then,"

"Uh yeah," I say, I only just realise that this was skipping class. I can't do this, but I have to, even though everything about this is extremely nerve wracking; from breaking a huge rule to the fact that I'm spending time with the guy who has held me captivated since I first saw him. I try to act comfortable "so, chemistry?"

"I wasn't lying," he says, pulling out a brown bottle from his satchel, "today we will be studying the effects different amounts of ethanol have on a teenage boy." he explains with a cute smirk.

"ugh, I don't drink..." I reply, wishing I could joke back at him.

he chuckles, "I wasn't talking about you," he says as he throws his head back, and closes his eyes as his lips press against the cold glass of the bottle. I stare, gobsmacked. I didn't know it was possible that taking a swig of alcohol could look that graceful. he opens his eyes and looks at me accusingly, one eyebrow raised.

"I guess 'keeping it cool' isn't important to you then," he mutters with a sigh.

"oh uh..." WHAT?!? what does that mean? does he know I like him? come on Thomas, say something! "uhh... sorry..."

he laughs, "don't. anyway, I think it's kinda cute"

oh

wait what!

cute? you mean, is he gay? he thinks I'm cute?!? did he just compliment me? is he... flirting with me? no. no, this can't be happening. I'm daydreaming, I must be. any moment now I'll find myself back in geography, waking up from yet another fantasy. but no, this can't be, I'm here, my body is here. this is all just, real.

I look up at him, into his eyes; and he stares back, confidently, a smirk plastered across his face. how is he so cool all the time? acting like everything is so normal, like he does this every day. maybe he does, he's handsome enough. I've never seen eyes like his, golden, with clusters of light reflected to create a sweet innocent look; how deceiving. his eyes seem like they are staring deep into my soul, though I know they are just seeing the cover, that no one could ever see anything but the mask I wear. I still feel self conscious, uncovered, my instincts telling me to hide.

he looks down up at my lips, and then back up at my eyes, hinting to something I don't quite understand. I watch as his lips part slightly, and he leans closer to me, my body frozen, afraid not of what I want, but what I can have. my heart stops as I feel his hand on the back of my neck, and his breath on my face. these seconds seem to last forever, this type of blissful waiting tortures me. I can only picture his lips on mine, but I can have it. just. a few. seconds. more.

but of course, I don't have nearly enough luck.

the bell rings in my ear. newt lowers his head, his forehead centimetres from my lips.

"I have somewhere to be." he says, quietly. he jumps up and grabs his satchel; I watch him as he walks away, until he turns the corner, out of sight. I let out a sigh and relax against the wall. I'm in shock, feeling emotions I thought I'd never feel. it's a kind of numb, lost feeling; I feel both fragile, and invincible. I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn to see Teresa, the girl from yesterday, smiling down at me.

"Thomas, right?"