HEY GUYS.
I'm baaaaaack!
How are y'all doing today? I hope you enjoy this chapter! It'll start to expand on Echo and Adam's relationship, finally :)
Yup yup!
Just a reminder, this chapter is based on the episode "Mr. Moth". If you have watched that episode, then you probably recognize it :) I gave it a bit of a twist though ;)
She sits patiently in her seat.
Smiling.
Eyes wide open, ready to learn.
Fingers grazing the side of her chin subconsciously.
She bites on her bottom lip, concentrating.
I swear I'll melt if she dares move again.
"…Moths, emit a special chemical called pheromones, to attract a mate." I ramble through the slur of words automatically, focusing my eyes steadily on her face. My classroom's lightbulbs were changed last night, from old-fashioned incadescent to energy-saving flourescent lightbulbs; the unintelligible principal, Mr. Tater, has the intent to save as much cash as we possibly can.
Not that I mind. The tint of lighting shining down on Echo's face is especially flattering today.
"What do Derbies do?" my incorrigible best friend questions, interested in my teachings for once.
"In some species, males often fight for dominance to win over the attraction of a female…" I continue, ignoring his remark.
"Great idea!" Derby exclaims excitedly. He lunges forward in the blink of an eye, a multitude of hues blended into one, racing forward like a comet. The class gasps in confusion.
Before I have time to react or flinch, the human comet crashes, smashing into my chest with unusual mutant-like impact. Something hard meets my back, followed by a cold seep of fluid spreading rapidly through my shirt, soaking it in seconds.
The test tube brimming with moth pheromones. Oh. Oh.
Great idea, Derby.
Just great.
She lingers behind as the others file out of the classroom like a herd of livestock, squeezing through the single frame door. Her eyes wander, straying at the strewn supplies littering the floor almost artfully. My crash to the table was quite violent; not on me, fortunately. But as a result, all of the test tubes and files I had lying neatly on the counter were now probably in a deep comma on the floor; if they were animate, that is. Echo purses her lips, pondering a question. As quickly as it comes, she forms an abrupt resolution. She strides towards me vigorously.
"Boys; they're so silly, aren't they?" She gestures dramatically, then her eyes widen. "Not you I mean, you're different. But other boys. They're really immature."
"Is that a good thing?" I laugh softly, scuffing the floor with my shoe. It's dirty. Layered with debris.
"Well…" She shifts a little closer after some degree of hesitation. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Silence.
"Look at this mess!" I say, trying to break the tension building up between us. Does she feel it too, like I do, looming thick in the air? It's almost like an intense friction; it causes my hairs to stand on end. "I hope moth pheromones don't leave a stain…"
She acts as if she notices my stained shirt for the first time. She furrows her eyebrows in sincere concern.
"Me too." She breathes shyly. Grabbing a palm-sized towel from the shelf, she inches closer, tugging on my shirt. With ease, she begins to run the towel around my shirt, tracing patterns, painting flowers with intricate petals. Everything she does is so elegant.
I think I'm starting to get goose bumps.
She dabs tenderly with the towel, attempting to free my shirt of the pheromone juice.
Is it just me, or is it getting a little too stuffy in here?
"This is an awesome shirt." She continues timidly, looking up into my eyes with big, innocent eyes. "It really brings out the blue in your eyes."
It really brings out the blue in my eyes? It really brings out the blue in my eyes?
"I-I-It does?" I'm shocked. Really truly. I don't know whether or not to be appalled or ecstatic, to be honest. She nods like a bobble head, grinning so sweetly that I can almost taste lollipops.
I let a nervous giggle bubble out awkwardly. Then I spin on my feet and reach down to pick up some fallen textbooks. I am so distracted that I almost don't notice that my hands are shaking thirty twitches a second.
Science 9, the textbook reads. How peculiar. Why not Science 10, or 11? Or how about Science 123? Ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…..
When I turn around, Echo's face is a mere 5 centimetres north of mine.
"Did you get a new haircut?" I stare at her lips as they work themselves delicately around the words.
"Well no—"
"It's super cute." And as if it was second nature, she runs her fingers through my hair, brushing my bangs to the side swiftly. All I can feel is the cool touch of her skin, fingernails gently dancing across my forehead; which by now, is probably slathered in sweat.
She trails her hand down my cheek, plopping it lazily on my shoulder. She cocks her head to the side, appearing mesmerized, like she's under some sort of spell. My eyes flicker automatically to where her hand rests. She slides her hand down the length of my arm, capturing my trembling fingers.
She laces her fingers through mine, like a puzzle piece finding its match. Electricity runs through my arm.
We are a closed circuit, energy streaming through.
The perfect fit.
On the other hand,
Great idea, Derby.