"'She was much too fond of Heathcliff'," the teacher recited from a battered copy of Wuthering Heights. Only a handful of students actually bothered to follow along in their own copies. The others blankly stared off into space, following dust particles through the air and counting down the seconds until the class ended. You, however, read along with the teacher enthusiastically. Wuthering Heights was one of your favorite books, after all.
The teacher continued, "'The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him: yet she got chided more than any of us on his account.'" The teacher clapped her book closed, commanding the attention of the students whose minds were somewhere else. "Now," she began, "what does this passage tell us about Catherine and Heathcliff's relationship?"
Your hand shot straight up into the air. You're teacher looked at you and sighed. "Thank you, Y/N, but you've been the only to speak up all class. Is there anyone else who would like to contribute to the conversation?" she dismissed you. Your hand slowly moved back to your side as you slid down in your desk, embarrassed. Your classmates all tried to avoid eye contact with Mrs. Boost. Hell, you could practically hear them praying for her not to call on them.
Mrs. Boost sighed for a second time. "Alright," she gave up. "Y/N, what was your comment?"
You shared your thoughts, but not nearly as eagerly as before. "For Catherine and Heathcliff, love and punishment will always intermingle. Theirs is a tormented love that would probably not do well under peaceful circumstances. They seem to thrive on drama."
Mrs. Boost nodded slowly. "That's a very interesting thought. Would any like to add to it?" Roman Godfrey, who sat across the room from you, raised his hand lazily. You rolled your eyes. You knew he never took this class, or school in general for that matter, seriously. Whatever was about to leave his mouth would no doubt make you want to face palm.
"Yes, Roman?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Boost, but I just don't understand why we're reading this book." You scoffed at this ridiculous statement. Roman paused briefly to glare at you before continuing. "I mean, why should we care about the angsty writing of some old crone from the 18th century?"
Your teacher began to address Roman's question, but you beat her to it. "We should care because it's one of the great classics of English literature. And it's not just 'angsty writing,'" you finger-quoted sarcastically. "Brontë develops themes about human nature that were revolutionary during her time."
The class emitted a long ooo noise as Roman stared at you, his lips slightly parted with a loss for words.
"Also," you added, "Wuthering Heights was written in the 19th century." Just then, the bell rang to signal that class was over. You smirked at Roman in triumph before gathering you things and leaving class with your head held high. It was about time someone knocked that privileged little rich boy down a couple pegs.
You were just about to walk out the school's front doors to go home when a tall figure blocked your way. You looked up to see that the figure was Roman Godfrey.
"You think you're real smart, don't you?" he asked with an edge in his voice.
"No," you replied calmly. "I just think you're not."
He moved closer to you, backing you into a row of lockers, and placed his hands on the lockers on either side of your head.
"Most people don't talk to me like that." His face was so close to yours that his breath fogged up your glasses. You would have pushed him away from you and left, but his cologne was so intoxicating that it never occurred to you. The scent reminded you of a burning fire in fall.
"I'm not most people," you stood your ground. His intense expression made you worry about what he would do next, but he just laughed.
"I guess not," he smiled. "I like that."
The two of you stood there, staring into each other's eyes for what seemed like minutes. Finally, Roman leaned in even closer until your lips touched. The kiss was surprisingly soft and sweet. With all the rumors you had heard about him, you never thought he could be this gentle with a girl.
Your lips parted and he leaned back, grinning. "You can call me out anytime you'd like."
