Shit.
I can hear the other girls giggling and sighing as he stands before us like a beautifully sculpted statue come to life. He's immaculately dressed as always: white buttoned-down shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows, black pants, and buckled leather shoes. Understated elegance at its finest, really...that one would be forgiven to forget what a colossal jerk the professor is.
The professor doesn't even meet my gaze as he abruptly starts his lecture, and soon enough I also find myself momentarily forgetting his hatefully dazzling good looks as he launches into an in-depth discussion of shapeshifting.
Several hands shoot up when he asks for someone to do a recap of shapeshifting abilities for the quasi-divine, and the professor eventually picks the boy seated next to me to answer his question.
"Quasis can only shift into the form of their kindred animal, and all primary traits and characteristics shall remain the same in either form. If the quasi is male, then his kindred animal will also be male. If the quasi's kindred animal is a chameleon, then the quasi shall also be able to somewhat alter its physical appearance even in human form."
I barely manage to keep my jaw from dropping at this, but all around me I see the other kids simply nodding like this is the gospel truth they've been enlightened with since birth. In my former school, Creaturae lessons were criminally rudimental. Who's the goddess of wisdom? Where was her original seat of power? Jeopardy $100 questions basically while here in Rosethorne—-
"Today, we're going to talk about demigods," the professor says. "As most of you should know by now, a demigod will inherit the kindred animal that his or her divine parent can shift into. In some cases, however, a demigod may also be able to shift into a secondary kindred animal, but this will require great skill and energy. Full-blooded gods, on the other hand...has anyone read up in advance about this?"
If this class were an episode for Jeopardy, the question would've been reserved for All-Star goats, and yet the moment the professor finishes speaking, hands shoot back up in the air as an impressive number of students readily vie for his attention.
The professor gestures to someone at the back, and I barely manage to keep myself from grimacing when I see a brown-haired beauty flashing a sultry smile at his direction.
"Gods are kindred to all creatures, and so they can shift into any animal known to them."
"Exactly."
I look down at my notebook and scowl. I could've known that, too, dammit. But because I came to this place two weeks late, it's all I can do to read and catch up with everyone's progress.
Several more rounds of graded recitation follow before the professor asks us to draw a shapeshifting chart for all three divine classes. When I see everyone pulling their drawers open, I do the same...and oh my Lord, is there no end to how surreal things are here?
Instead of pens and pencils, Rosethorne has us back in the Dark Ages, and for one moment I can only stare blankly at the assortment of quills and ink bottles neatly arranged in a drawer tray.
"Anything wrong, Ms. Mariposa?"
The professor's cool voice startles me, and I'm stunned to find him suddenly standing in front of my desk.
"Do you need any help?"
"Nope." That's completely pride talking, but whatever. Seeing that other students are giving their bottles a shake before uncapping them, I unthinkingly do the same...and end up having the whole thing burst out and sticky black ink splatter all over my face.
The whole class laughs, but I'm more annoyed with myself than humiliated. As fancy as Rosethorne is on the outside, high school is still high school, and I should've remembered that pranks are part of the standard initiation for new girls in school.
"Ms. Mariposa..."
It's the professor, offering me his silk handkerchief.
Here we go again, I can't help thinking. The professor coming to my rescue like some dashing knight when we both know his armor is all but tainted. My first instinct is to refuse him, but then an idea occurs to me, and before I know it, I'm already lifting my face to his—-
Outraged gasps fill the room as I ask in the sweetest voice I can muster—-
"Could you clean it up for me, Professor?"
One, two, three seconds pass, and then the professor's dark gaze gleams in a way that almost makes me shiver. It's that gleam again. The one that makes me feel like I'm indeed an intriguing little thing to him...and nothing else. It's enough to make me hesitate and wonder if I've been too hasty by asking for his help, but before I can figure out my next move, I hear the professor say in a mockingly gentle voice, "It shall be my pleasure."
I can practically hear the girls gritting their teeth as the professor slowly wipes the ink from my face, and as his gaze never wavers from mine, I work hard to keep myself still. It's fine with me for the whole class to think I'm flirting with the professor, but it's another thing entirely for the professor to believe the same thing.