September, 2009

My grades were failing.

I wasn't really surprised after seeing my examination grades. The 1 turned to 1.25. I stopped participating in class. And I actually skipped some of her classes just to avoid her. My friends even asked me why I skipped our webpage class but I chose not to tell them.

Why am I avoiding instructor Le Creuset?

It's because of the kiss. Well, it was a kiss on my forehead, but a kiss is still a kiss. And every time I remember the said incident, I feel funny inside.

Right now, I'm staying at one of the computer rooms, working on designing a blog. A commissioned work.

With my headphone on and my focus on the blog, I was too busy working on the site to notice anyone around me until I felt like someone's staring at me. Turning to where I felt the presence – preparing to run if it were a ghost – I found myself staring at grey colored eyes.

'Who has grey colored eyes?' I wondered.

My eyes wandered until I finally have a full view of the owner of those eyes. Instantaneously, I felt like my blood froze after seeing a familiar blonde hair, cheeky smile, and a beautiful face, leaning on top of the monitor in front of me.

Instructor Claire Le Creuset.

'Shit.'

"Bonjour, mademoiselle Zaragoza," instructor Le Creuset greeted sunnily, waving her hand.

Averting my gaze from instructor Le Creuset's, I merely nodded as a sign of acknowledgement that I saw her. The thoughts of the kiss resurfaced and I fought hard not to look up to stare at the instructor and focus more on my work. It was better to ignore the French beauty and focus on the work I was doing than end up blushing.

It was a good five minutes of ignoring the blonde before she decided to lean over the CRT monitor and look at my laptop screen. "What are you working on?"

I ignored her question and continued with the blog I'm working on; hoping she would get a hint and leave me alone. The work I was doing was far more important than entertaining such nonsensical question from blonde instructor. Plus, I was already having a hard time with the blog to even cater to instructor Le Creuset's question.

But instead of going away, the instructor moved around and looked at what I as working on from behind me.

"Mademoiselle Zaragoza, you zhould uze 'ze- let me..." she said, pushing me aside and started working on the blog. Work is an understatement. She's typing several codes that I was not familiar with and I swear to the goddess Freyja that she's not even breaking a sweat!

Amazing.

It was the only word I could describe how fast and jaw-dropping skills that instructor Le Creuset has in webpage programming. How she didn't need to rely on the page I have opened for the codes list, and how she added a complex code – naming JavaScript– in it. And I was amazed at how she made the whole blog look amazing even without asking me what changes needed to be done.

"Here, mademoiselle." She slid the laptop to my side, allowing me to see the changes she made.

Checking on the work she did, I was rendered speechless at what I saw.

The main body of the page that I was having a hard time with – adding a galaxy theme that will change depending on the date –The scroll that should look like a column of stars, has been done perfectly. And the default cursor was changed to the image of a shooting star.

She took over my work after watching me tweak a few items on the blog's codes. And what I was working on for hours has been done in mere minutes.

I take it back. This woman is not just amazing, she's a freaking goddess of webpage programming!

"Now 'zat you are no longer buzy..." Instructor Le Creuset said, taking my attention from the laptop and focused on her. She has a look on her face that greatly defines authority even if she was smiling at me. "Will you now tell me why you did not attend my clazez?"

Speechless.

This instructor of mine, one whom I felt annoyance with, completed my work just to talk to me. 'What the hell does she want with me?'

"Mademoiselle? I do not have all day."

Clenching my fists, I looked away from my instructor and focused on my laptop. "I just don't like being in the center of attraction, okay? I hate it when people stare at me."

Well, that was part of the reason why I was avoiding her. As if I will tell her the truth that I as avoiding her because of the kiss.

"I'm tired of having to redo my assignments, which happens to be different from my classmates, in front of everybody."

There was warmth on my balled left hand. Softness and warmth. The blonde was holding my hand while having an unreadable expression on her face.

Guilt?

Sadness?

Or was it relief?

I'm not sure. But what I was sure about is that her hand felt nice on mine.

"Je suis désolé, mademoiselle. I did not mean to offend you wi'z my actionz during my claz," she said, sounded genuinely apologetic. But I can see in those greyish eyes of hers that she was worried about something else.

Probably about the kiss she gave me.

The thought of the kiss made me blush yet again and I turned away from her to hide my now-reddening face. With a sigh, I scratched the back of my head with my right hand. The kiss aside, I do want to know why she did those things to me. The 'giving me a different assignment, making me present my assignments in front of the class, and even making me take a different exam than my classmates' things I mean.

"Why though?" I asked, still avoiding eye contact with her.

"'Why' what?" She questioned back.

'Why did you kiss me?'

"Why did you isolate me from my classmates?"

My left hand was caressed by my instructor gently and it was enough for my heart to pound really hard.

"Hm... Why indeed," She mused, stopping her gentle caress on my hand and released it from her affectionate hold. Without her hand on mine, it made me miss its warmth. "I would only guez 'zat your talent in my claz would only go to wazte if you ztay wi'z 'zem. You are far zuited to attend my zpecial webpage claz 'zan my daily claz wi'z your clazmatez."

I was about to tell her that I do not want to attend an extracurricular activity but she already stood up and making her way towards the door.

"Oh and before I forget, mademoiselle Zaragoza..." I turned to her with a raised brow, silently questioning what she had forgotten. "I would expect you to attend my claz tomorrow. It iz not nice to make me miz you zo much."

After what she said, she left. Leaving me alone in the computer laboratory with my mouth agape and a disbelief look on my face.

'What the hell was that?'