Awoken By Passion

  * * *

  “You what?” Ethan’s smile twitched, between amused and shocked. His eyes scanned my note and the notes of our assignment, then to the book that wasn’t closable. “You thought that I’d stop talking to you because the book got a little wet and fell on the floor.” His eyes held with mine. A mocking smile was there, laughter was on its way.

  Yes. Because that’s the best thing. I ruined your book and your notes; it’s better this way. Now we won’t have to be partnered and you can leave me alone. I slipped the note to him as he scanned it, nearly impossible timing for him to read it at all.

  “This isn’t the answer, besides; it’s just a book. And these notes; can be re-wrote.”

  So are you still going to talk to me then? This, I thought. And he nodded subconsciously. I raised a brow at his actions. I know you can hear me. I narrowed my eyes, wishing he’d just come clean.

  Ethan gathered the notes I’d tried to rewrite; his lips parted, but before he could ask anything, the teacher called us to attention.

  “Your assignments should be in drafting order. I expect to have them on my desk before the end of the day.”

  Grumbles lingered in the room, and I was one of them. Damn it. This wasn’t good. Our draft was in pieces; destroyed by my doing. I wanted to say sorry, to say it wasn’t fair he shouldn’t fail the drafting process. It was my fault.

  “We’ll get through this,” said Ethan smoothly. “Have some faith.” He winked and straightened in his chair, with fresh paper and pen; he was to work with all that was before him.

  I bit my lip unsure what I should do.

  “You can draw up the final idea if you like,” he said without looking to me; his pen was a flash across the page.

  I noticed three paragraphs in progress. How was he able to do that? I’d be left on the first line still. A smile showed, and I pondered shouting at him about being able to hear me, but it was pointless. I decided that he was partly right. This way I can work on the final, and maybe, just maybe we wouldn’t fail the drafting process and he’ll just answer my thoughts without needing to discuss if he can.

  The bell rang and Mr. Tilmore was tapping the table for everyone to put their part assignment on. I cringed with fear, since Ethan was still hard at work. He sighed smoothly and leaned away, with a flip of the tenth page, he placed his pen on top.

  “And you thought it was impossible.” He grinned wide as he rose from his seat.

  I couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies inside my stomach as he marched to the table handing it over to the teacher who was surprised and interested in the size of our assignment. I was focused on Ethan as he left the room I followed after him.

  “So, did you at least like the book?”

  Er … sure. If you count vampires part of history, I said to myself … since I didn’t have a voice. His brow creased and another wave of emotion snapped through me. Why do you do that? Why can’t you just answer me already?

  He didn’t respond, but walked on as if waiting for a note to be passed, and this time I wasn’t giving in. Yesterday I’d seen him with another person in the car. Who ever it was didn’t help with this situation. I wanted to ask him. I wanted to write it down; and decided for the tenth thousandth time that there was no need.

  He could read my thoughts—sometimes he answered them; and that was enough.

  “If you like I have other books you can borrow.” His offer wasn’t what I was expecting.

  Other books? What could I read and why would I borrow them from him. Sure, having him to talk to was nice, but I could just go to the library if I needed books. I dropped my gaze.

  “Kera, I …” He paused in his words and then stopped dead in his tracks. Strange. He was startled by … something. His green eyes showed with surprise, with wonder.

  What. This … I mouthed since I wasn’t sure if he’d answer me, or turn and walk away—which is what he did. That’s nice of you.

  I headed to the lunch room, lining up to receive my sandwich of plain ham; now with cheese and sauce. I smiled at the change of menu. I was about to hand her a thank you note when the lunch lady spoke up, and to my surprise, not what I would expect either.

  “It was a good thing to see you ask for something different,” she said. I nodded unable to answer. When did I ask for something different?

  As I sat at my table, I came to the knowledge that whatever thoughts Ethan over heard, had him take action.

  Why did he suddenly run off? It was like yesterday afternoon with that stranger in the car. Now today too. Staring at the empty spot where he sat, I was lost by his absence.

  It was better this way, I thought, as I pondered Melody’s reaction. I wasn’t in the mood to listen or imagine what she would say. It the past seven days since knowing Ethan and I stared at him endlessly. I’d memorised his dark brown locks napping at his neck, his green eyes that held a secret shade of silver in different hues, the structure of his jaw, and the detail of his supple lips—the hidden fang I was yet to find and sure, he was able to read my thoughts. I lingered on his aroma, the scent he carried stirred within me. It tingled the pit of navel and made my knees wobbly. It was pointless in denying it. I liked Ethan, and I wished he was here.

  I glanced to the garden, to the empty tables dotted around large bushy trees. To zero in on a familiar form sitting in the shade of a tree, sitting with his back to me, as he half leant on the table; his dark russet hair touched the collar of his shirt, as his long fingers brushed through it with ease.

  Ethan had found a seat outside—not about to get soaked this day, since it was sunny—but he wasn’t alone. Two strangers sat with him.

  A blond couple. The girl leant on the boy’s chest, who was propped against the tree, straddling the table bench; his arms wrapped around her, relaxed and flirty. The look they gave each other was adoring and gentle. Taking in the boys flawless, chiselled face as he glanced to the tree tops, his dark blond hair touched the edges of his chin as he smiled amused to whatever they were discussing. His features were boyish, slim formed, thinner than Ethan and due to his position under the tree; I couldn’t see how tall he was. His clothes where brown hues. Jeans, shirt and a jacket to match; it was clear the heat of the midday sun, didn’t bother him; he appeared comfortable in the thick jacket. The girl was beautiful. Long blond hair, blue eyes, and the most angelic face I’d ever seen. She was wearing comfortable clothes, deeper blue jeans, a floral top, and a light jacket. She somehow made jeans look flawless and stylish. Her slender form and feminine features showed attraction, beauty and grace. Taking in the strangers with a degree of interest—seniors maybe? I wonder who they are? Ethan was relaxed around them, so they must be someone he knows. Was this the driver of the Porsche from yesterday? Or were they his mystery brother and sister—I bit my lip in annoyance that I was paying attention to him again.

  The girl tilted her head, her eyes locked with mine through the glass, and the ten metres of space between us. Her lips moved too fast for me to catch what she was saying. Ethan casually turned his head; his eyes held with mine for several seconds. My heart fluttered. He smiled and turned to face the strangers while the two watched me for several moments, and turned away without another glance in my direction.

  Anger boiled and worry seeped within me. I’d let my fog drift and this is what I get? This is how I am treated?

  “You were right to stay hidden Kerr …” Was what Melody would say. She was right, I was right to think those words.

  I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. He couldn’t read my mind. He didn’t care if I ruined his book. And so what if he spoke to me. In the sense, he spoke, and I listened. I didn’t talk to him. He couldn’t listen to me talk, and I wasn’t sure what hopes I had. I knew it felt nice to have Ethan there; maybe he was pretending to hear my thoughts. Taking her seat wasn’t nice. Taking her book wasn’t good, and now I’d thought of him as something other than—what?

  I was being foolish. It reminded me of Monday last week when he arri
ved. I had wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t; and since he had sat with me, I accepted him, safe, and normal. It was better to disappear and I was good at being invisible. I didn’t need friends, or anyone, especially him. With luck, Spirit and his pack would attack me this afternoon, and I’d be free from all that I was suffering.