Chapter Seven: 'A Troubled Mind.'

2.6K 83 18
                                    

Mrs Robson was extremely late. Twenty minutes after the beginning of the lesson, and there was still no sight of a single piece of multi coloured attire, let alone the eccentric teacher.

Kael shifted in his chair. Used to teachers who all wore impeccable suits and would have never even dreamed of arriving to a lesson late, Mrs Robson was certainly out of the ordinary. Isis didn’t look unsurprised, instead reading through her script with the sort of avid concentration he’d come to expect of her. Her tongue was just peeking out from between her lips as she read, her brows tightened into a slight frown as she attempted to commit the words to memory.

‘Alright there?’ Kael asked, unable to help himself. Well, perhaps he was helping himself; the tongue was giving him thoughts he’d rather not repeat, and he was hoping she’d put it away, out of sight.

Isis looked up, and looked at him blankly, her eyes refocusing as she adjusted to being back in the real world, not in 14th Century Verona. ‘Oh,’ she said, suddenly. ‘Sorry? What did you say?’

He grinned. ‘Are you alright there?’

Isis looked puzzled, clearly wondering why he’d disturbed her for such an inconsequential question. ‘Er, yes, I’m fine. Are you?’

He nodded. ‘Is Mrs Robson often this late?’

Smiling ruefully, Isis nodded. ‘Yeah, she tends to forget lessons.‘ She tilted her head, and grinned. ‘Or she’ll get distracted by something and forget everything altogether.’

‘Really?’ Kael wasn’t surprised to hear that, when he came to think of it. ‘Distracted by what?’

Isis chuckled. ‘I once came across her staring at a poster of Barack Obama in the Politics department,’ she admitted. ‘She was just gazing at it, like she was in a trance.’ She demonstrated, letting her eyes glaze over, and staring dully at the space in front of her. ‘When I tapped her on the shoulder to see if she was okay, she snapped out of it and told me she was likening politicians to Shakespeare characters in her mind.’

Kael snorted. ‘Did you ask her which politicians?’

‘Of course!’ Isis replied. ‘She said she couldn’t possibly tell me, and swanned off.’ She paused, then let out a little laugh. ‘Quite literally swanned off, actually; she was wearing what looked like a swan feather cape.’

Kael laughed. ‘Doesn’t surprise me.’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘She really is something else, isn’t she?’

‘Not what you’re used to?’ Isis inquired, moving the script from her lap. Rather surprised, Kael took this as an enormous compliment- not much could part Isis from her precious script.

‘Well, yeah. It is pretty different here.’

Isis shrugged. ‘It was bound to be, I guess. But what ways in particular?’

‘The people,’ he replied. ‘They’re just very… well, different.’

Isis bit her bottom lip and smiled at the same time, in a way that caught Kael’s eye, and refused to let it go. He found himself gazing at her lips. ‘You’re all polo players who discuss the finer points of philosophy, are you?’ she asked.

Kael laughed. ‘Oh no, not at all. The majority of my friends were the same as the majority of the lot here: interested in partying and girls.’ He paused. ‘They were more likely to be writing something highly original on each other’s work- usually penis-face or something- to be having a deep conversation.’

‘That does sound familiar,’ she replied, wrinkling her nose. Kael found himself fascinated by the way the small lines crinkled her nose, making a few of her freckles vanish into them. ‘Maturity doesn’t vary between the classes, then?’

The Fairest StarsWhere stories live. Discover now