CHAPTER II

"Time and silence"

(The Count of Monte-Cristo, Alexandre Dumas)

Heat and desire

are both wonder and hell

Only fueled by the danger

of all the things left unsaid

It had taken James Hook some time before he noticed the girl.

He usually hated to teach the new students, not quite grown out of their fresh high school ways. A quick glance at the overall of the class confirmed this impression: half of the class was already texting, not even bothering to hide their actions; the other half – mostly the feminine one – wasn't showing the slightest interest in taking notes.

Except one. He had just finished his introduction and had to pause for a second. Looking over the classroom again, the only girl whose studious face was slightly leaned towards the table, absorbed in her notes, caught his eye. At first, he dismissed this interest; even though it was becoming rare to notice a studious first-year, however it wasn't enough to make him loose track of his lesson.

But during the course of the class, he couldn't help but cast a glance or two at the girl. Something was there; something he couldn't quite put his finger on… When suddenly, he remembered. That special thing at the corner of her lips; he had seen it before. And he knew precisely who it belonged to.

Wendy Darling.

That darling girl, whose name was so sweet but whose manners weren't. How he remembered her and that dreadful brat, Pan, who was at the time her best friend. It lasted for far longer than any man could bear: those intricate games they played on him. Not that he didn't repay them the favor from time to time either. He didn't remember when or why it started: but it did, and until that girl left the neighbourhood – and Pan, he didn't have a minute of peace. And there she was again; studious, serious, grown.

And how beautifully grown. Maybe this was what had drawn his attention to her in the first place, after all.

But he must go back to his lesson; he surely doesn't have any time to waste on her; that former brat. Yet.

Wednesday was going to be her least favorite day of the week from now on, she decided. Not only did she have literature class, but especially today: she was going to have to confront Mr. Hook. Now she knew he remembered her only to well; and she terribly feared what was going to happen to her now, as things surely wouldn't be left unsaid.

A knot in her stomach and a fever already coming up at her head – stinging, she quickly stepped towards her desk past Hook, ignoring him – but feeling his eyes following her, almost burning her back. And so they did during the whole class. Last time, he wasn't watching her; and today – even if she never glanced at him, not even once – she knew he did. And it consumed her so.

At the ringing of the bell, once again, she thought she was free. Until, after a few students faster than her had already left the room, she heard his voice; clear and distinct among the low chatter filling the class.

"Ms. Darling. A word, if you please."

Wendy felt the world sink underneath her for a stretching second. But it was nothing, she told herself – except her treacherous body disagreed; weakening her knees, making her hands tremble uncontrollably. She gulped anxiously as she stepped down towards her professor; dreading what would come next. She noticed on her way a few jealous and angry glances from a few envious students. Well, they wouldn't want to be in my shoes if they really knew what was going on, she thought. And she finally arrived, facing Hook. She had to slightly lean on the table behind her to remain standing – and to hide those betraying hands behind her back.

Hook kept still, also slightly – but elegantly leaned against his desk in a jaunty way. A half smile passed on his face as he looked down on her, his arms crossed against his chest. As he didn't say a word for a few moments, Wendy almost thought she had to say something. Was she supposed to say she was sorry? Should she –

"How is Pan doing, nowadays?" asked Hook, interrupting Wendy's thoughts. She blinked, first unsure of what to say. Choosing her words with parsimony, she replied:

"He is fine, I think. I have not seen him since he dropped out of high school." A disdainful scoff escaped from Hook.

"I didn't expect any less from him." Wendy finally raised her chin and finally looked fully at Hook, an eyebrow raised. The way he was looking at her made her unsure of what to think. "However, I am sure that you have, on the contrary, chosen to pursue assiduous studies. Am I right?" She nodded slightly, starting to see where he was going. He continued.

"Now, Ms. Darling – I am your professor. It definitely isn't in my interest to work against students – no matter how… Unruly and turbulent they once were."

"Why I – I don't… It's just… It's just that…" She stopped, collecting herself, before finishing her sentence. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much." Wendy was filled with relief; yet, she still was perplex about his attitude. It was indeed expected of him to lead his students towards success; but even in her case, he was showing much more forgiveness than she would ever have imagined.

"Now, I will not treat you in any way different from any of my students – no more, no less. But make only one mistake; one thing that shows me you haven't changed from that time of insubordination, and I will make your year here a nightmare." He paused, marking his words. "Is that clear for you, Ms. Darling?"

Wendy had her answer ready. "I will not give you a single reason to do so, sir. I have grown out of this temper, you can be sure of that." This answer seemed to please Hook, who nodded in agreement.

"Make sure to remember that, Ms. Darling – and watch your relations. A few more bad influences like Peter Pan surely lurk in this place."

Wendy muttered a few words in agreement before being finally dismissed by Hook.

At the end of the day, she had survived this much better than she thought she would have.

For the following weeks, Hook kept his word: he didn't treat her any different than any other students. He ignored her just as much as he did with anybody else. However, his talk with Wendy didn't go unnoticed by the other girls; soon, a few approached her, curious about what had got her that special attention from their professor. Wendy told them the true reason, and some who were just looking for crusty gossip scoffed and went away. Others, still fascinated by the literature professor with blue eyes, remained within Wendy's circle, even if she explained them she probably wouldn't speak to the man again.

"Really, he is now ignoring me! Sometimes, I even think he has entirely forgotten my existence."

"Now, come on, Wendy; you are the only girl of the class who got to speak with him privately" started once again her new friend Lily, a lovely native girl. Her magnetic black eyes and languid voice had put every boy at her feet; except the object of her attentions, Hook, who never did so much as to notice her. "Surely there is something" she concluded, nudging and winking.

Wendy laughed heartily; Lily had now given up any hope on Hook, but she kept on teasingly reminding her that she had been at the core of every literature class gossip for a whole week.

"Okay, enough joking around, Lily" concluded Wendy. "Now, can you please give me the work on Euripides for next week?"

For a time, Wendy felt definitely pleased with how the situation had turned out; she only had to remain studious, which surely wouldn't be a problem, and her year was secure. Furthermore, being entirely ignored by Mr. Hook wasn't such a big price to pay, wasn't it?

Except she found herself glancing at him from time to time during class. It wasn't much at first; besides, it didn't mean anything. She simply looked at him the way any other person would when following a lesson. But after hearing so much praise about his looks from her friends, surely she could check if they were right… So there she was, gazing at her professor a little longer than required; as he never noticed her, she felt free to do so, not guilty of anything. After all, it was just looking at someone, right? It didn't mean anything, she kept telling herself.

It didn't mean anything until she started looking forward to her literature classes, thinking about it the day before – then every day of the week. It didn't mean anything until she found herself thinking about him, lying in her bed at night. She needed to seehim, just to see him a little bit more everyday. She simply liked to look at him, to note every detail of his features, from his long curly hair to his slightly crooked smiled. He never smiled, she had noticed, so it filled her with the most wonderful and mellow feeling when he rarely did. But he never smiled at her.

And without her noticing it, things turned into a game of spying onto her professor.

Wendy found herself lingering at the end of the classes, remaining in the corridors afterwards just to get a glimpse of him as he left the room; or she would arrive earlier to see him – he would only pass through, not even acknowledging her presence.

So she kept on glancing at him, as briefly as she could, enjoying his presence, thinking he would never notice, since she practically didn't exist to his eyes – yes, she was sure of it.

Until one day, he looked back.