Falling Fast

Chapter 28 - The consequences of sewing class

It still surprised me sometimes that Alexander Grayson took textiles. He was the only guy in the class, but he didn’t seem to mind and somehow the Grayhounds in the group still got their work done. That of course probably had something to do with our hawk of a teacher. Mrs. Kemp was generally pretty laid back and I really did like her, but she could spot slacking students quicker then Rogers. It was kind of amazing actually.

I was sent to work at the same table as him as soon as I stepped foot in the class. I blinked at my teacher a few times since she’d almost snapped at me but walked over there anyway. A few of the girls watched me make my way over to him which was ridiculous. All I was going to do was share a work space with him, not let him jump all over me and stick his tongue down my neck. Most days I probably would have asked to be seated somewhere else, but today it felt rather fortuitous that that was where I was being sent. It meant I could talk to him without it seeming too out of place.

He already had some pale cloth on the table and was laying down a pattern that was for a dress. The theme this term wasn’t just dresses, oh no. Wedding dresses. I glanced over to his open sketchbook and saw that his final design was embellished and looked really complicated. There was a lot of embroidery and quite a few layers.

“Morning,” I said thinking that if I started this off amicably it wouldn’t be too unbearable to have to sit here possibly until the end of term.

He looked up. “Hi. What brings you over here? Normally you sit next to the window.”

I looked longingly at my normal seat at the other side of the classroom. A group of people had taken over the table I normally had to myself. I had no idea why. “Mrs. Kemp ordered me over here.”

“So nice you’re here for the pleasure of my exquisite company,” he said and got back to work arranging his pattern on the thick silk.

I rolled my eyes and sat opposite him at the huge table. It was about ten feet long and he was working down the length of it. I dropped my bag onto the chair that was next to me and pulled my sketchbook out. “Thanks for the tip off.”

“You didn’t seem too bothered about it when I told you.”

“I know. But you were being a bit of a jerk.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment but he didn’t look too offended at my assessment of his past behaviour. “Jerks can be helpful.”

“I know. Thank you.”                                        

“Especially when the jerk is the person in this school you’ve known longest besides your brother.”

“That is still weird to think about.” I’d known the guy longer than I’d known Lexie.

He shrugged. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. It makes it all the more awkward when you hit on me,” I said dryly.

He looked up at me with a grin. “I’ll be sure to do it more often then. Oh my, Zoey, flushed indignation is such a pretty colour on you.”

And there I’d been thinking that I was going to be the first female Alexander Grayson had a normal, flirtation free conversation with for nearly a decade. “Whatever,” I snapped. “Get back to cutting stuff up.”

He just smiled wryly and bent his head back to his work. “Is it really so strange that I’d try to help you out?”

The corner of my mouth turned up for a moment. “You did more than help.”

He looked up at me with soft confusion in his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said and waved the subject of what happened away. “But a huge tip off like that from the boy who used to put worms and slugs in my shoes? Yes, that is strange.”