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"I see you enjoy staring at people's faces for socially inappropriate lengths of time..." I was snapped back to reality by the low, husky voice belonging to Ivan. "I-I wasn't staring..." I defend. "Not at you at least." I quickly defend.
"Mmhmm, sure." He nods skeptically. Before I could say anything else, the professor spoke up again. "Alright everyone, so today's lesson is about..." He jabbers away, and everyone takes out a book and pen to note things down.
I did the same, but could not find my pen anywhere. I kneeled down to see if I dropped it somewhere, but it was nowhere in sight. "Ms. Parker, what are you doing down there?" Mr. Polo asks a few seconds later.
"I can't find my pen." I inform, still under the table. "Oh my- Just borrow it from someone else, will ya?" He groans. "Can't believe I have to spell everything out for you kids." He sighs, and I get back in my seat, somewhat embarrassed.
"Hey, do you have a spare pen I can borrow?" I ask Ivan awkwardly. He just sighs, and opens his pencil case, looking for a pen. "Yes, I do." He then answers. "Great, thanks!" I smile, only to realize that I spoke too soon.
"But you're not getting it." He finishes. "What? Why?" I look at him, confused. "Easy. You spilled coffee all over me." He shrugs. "YOU walked into my cup." I remind. "Still not getting the pen." He rolls his eyes, noting something down.
"Dude, seriously?!" I raise my brows at him. How can one be so damn petty? "Da. Because of you, Kobra Kabari made me clean the entire mess up." He scoffs. "Cobra what?" I snort a little. "Kobra Kabari. The janitor and home monitor who always dresses in army suit." He says, making me laugh some more.
"Not funny. I was late to class as I had to mop the entire floor." He scoffs, making me laugh a lot more. "Ms. Parker!" Mr. Polo barks. "Hmm?" I look at him, shutting up instantly. "Do you find the holocaust funny?!" He shoots me a glare.
"What?! No!" I choke on my saliva. "Good. Then stop laughing while I'm talking about it. It's very disturbing." He sighs. "My bad..." I apologize. "Wait, why are we even talking about that though? This isn't history." I say. "No, but it is communications." He rolls his eyes at me.
"And if you would've been noting anything down, you'd know that I was communicating as to how I got my name." He scoffs. "How does Marco Polo have anything to do with the holocaust?" I ask. "I guess you'll never know." He shrugs.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXOajzdBEhG
"Oh well..." I mumble, looking down, shooting a snickering Ivan, a death glare.
"And you still don't have a pen. What a shocker." He groans. Okay I kinda feel targeted at this point. "Incompetency at it's finest." He grumbles, making me sink further into my seat. Please kill me. This is so embarrassing.
"You can borrow my pen if you'd like, Pheonyx Parker." The nasal voice of Peter Watson spoke aloud, waving a pen at me. Everyone began laughing. "Come and get it." He grins, and people laughed some more. Please- I'm gonna cry.
I took in a deep breath, and walked awkwardly towards him to get his pen. Lord, this is basically social suicide. Good thing it'll be over soon when I die. I'm glad Ivan doesn't like me. Wouldn't take too long for him to just... end me.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqno1GheWJL
I took the pen from Xander, but he very creepily held my hand while handing it over, stroking my hand. His touch began boil my blood, and I grabbed his hand, crushing it with my grip. "Touch me like that again, and I will crush all your bones and feed them to you." I threaten, crushing it some more.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH7UjjiOzgm
"Ah, ow ow..." He hisses softly.
Everyone stared at us with widened eyes now, somewhat impressed. "Oh, and thank you for the pen." I smile sweetly, letting go of his bruising hand now, walking back to my seat, a lot more confident now that everyone saw that. That'll teach them to not mess with me.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx6TqzppO7g
Sure, I'm a little socially awkward. But that's only cuz I'm not used to normal human interactions. I'm still getting there. But it won't happen overnight. By the time I settled back into my seat, I began taking notes about how Mr. Polo wishes his name was Draco Polo instead.
I could feel Ivan's eyes all over me, scanning my face to detect any emotions, but I decided to ignore it and continued my work. That only lasted for about 8 minutes though, cuz by now I was dying of boredom.
My face was lying on the desk in front of me, on top of my text book as I struggled to stay awake. "How is he even a communications professor?" I groan. Ivan, who was also looking just as dead as I was, just ignored me. Wow, that's rude.
The only person paying attention in this class was probably Peter. I honestly am so tempted to just throw my dagger at his neck. But there are too many witnesses around. And Ivan would disclose my identity, and I would screw the mission up.
Not that I was considering it anyway... Heh.
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