Eliza:
I've anticipated the topic for the whole of last week.
"what is quantum Mechanics anyone?"
I raise my hand after noticing none raised as usual.
"Yes Leon."
What? The new guy?
I whip my head in disbelief and he sneaks a wink at me, jiggling his earrings.
Does he actually know anything about physics?
"Quantum mechanics in simple terms, is the speculated depiction of material behaviour through mathematical calculation." He gives Mr. Nice a very sparkling smile as he explains the simple theory of quantum mechanics.
The class goes squeaky silent and I feel drool dripping by the corners of my mouth.
The bad boy is smart?
"Will you marry me Leon Jones?"Some obnoxious girl couldn't help herself.
"I would but I don't think I'm ready for commitment yet doll."
A range of murmurs and guffaw follows the exasperated yelling over the noise from Mr. Nice―trying to calm the class down.
"Does anyone want to write the formula on the board?"
"What are you paid for Mr. Nice?"
The class falls into chaos after that and I'm just trying to find my head amidst it all.
"That is not respectful."
There is ultimate silence when Leon speaks up, standing up from his seat.
The chair scrapes across the tiles as it moves backwards from under him.
"Never disrespect a teacher or anyone else." The glare he directs at the boy is enough to send a wild dog running with it's tail between it's legs.
I watch in amazement as the class goes utterly still in tensed anticipation of what would happen next.
"Thank you Mr. Jones, now do you volunteer?"
"Yes sir."
He simply nods his head, his metal earrings jiggle against each other with audible clinks as he shuffles to the White board, taking the highlighter from Mr. Nice.
His every movement is commanding an aura that doesn't match with his bad boy vibes.
He scribbles on the white board. His brawny arms are the hypnotic clock, captivating swoon worthy attention in the class.
Then from my peripherals, the open doorway becomes enveloped by a giant dressed in simple blue jeans and black skin hugging shirt.
There are black inks decorating every inch of his visibly brawny forearms. It seems they trail to his round his neck.
Both his ears hold multiple earrings.
His hair is Raven black and his well structured face holds two striking fierce Sapphires and they are staring.
At me.
Everything about him screams danger.
A lump fills my throat and my heart jumps in its cage when acknowledgement flashes in them.
The lesson is forgotten.
"How may I help you sir?" Mr. Nice disrupts the lesson and the the whole class becomes fully aware of the tattooed intruder. Thankfully dragging his piercing eyes away from me.
"I want to speak with Eliza Phoebe Goodwill please," He ignores the hard pensive stare of scrutiny from the disapproving face of Mr. Nice, lashing him with an authoritative tone that hints he is used to getting his way.
Now my senses are heightened.
How does he know my full name?
"How do you know her may I ask?"
There is a shift in the atmosphere and a heavy weight rolls of the stiff plank as his eyes find mine again.
"She is a very good friend." His eyes are dead set, holding some unexplainable emotion as they glint and shimmer.
Two frozen icey pools under moon light.
"Do you know this man Eliza?" Mr Nice snaps me out of my trance like reverie and I shake my head automatically, gripping the life out of my blue sharpie.
Mr. Nice gives an affirmative nod as if my answer confirms his suspicions, turning back to the man―sizing up in a defensive stance.
That seems futilely comical because the man visibly out sizes him in all angles.
"Sir, I have to ask you to leave."
"Okay sir, no problem," He shrugs his broad shoulders casually with a smirk and turn on his heels. Probably heading the way he came.
"I never took you for that kind of girl Eliza." A raspy whisper and poke on my shoulder, I knew it was Gemil. One of the stuck up idiots of Belvoir high.
But I guess he doesn't have all the credit as I embarrassingly avoid all the awkward stares of shock directed my way.
"I don't know what you're talking about, I have never seen that man in my life."
Just then a sharp ring echoes into the classroom and everyone cowers with their hands over their ears, groaning in pain.
Some are already on the floor writhing as the sound tortures their ears, I inclusive.
The in my fading line of sight, I see the heavy blue jeans again, heading towards me.
What does this guy want with me? Who is he?
In the heat of danger alarming in my head,
I make a swift decision not thoroughly well planned.
I jump through the classroom window next to my seat.