The previous week had flew past and before I knew it, it was yet again the first lesson on Monday morning, French. Molly was stood in front of my desk, yapping away about something. Of course, I wasn't paying attention. I was far too focused about the fact Ms Hudson wouldn't be in for the test.

"Um.. J-James. Can I... ask you something...?"

I turn to look up at Molly, whose face was as bright and red as a tomato. She avoided eye contact and shuffled her feet.

I gave her a gentle smile to try and calm her down "Sure"

"O-okay. I know this might come as kind of sudden but..."

Her voice began to trail off as my attention drifted from her to the person who had just entered the room.

Curls. That's the first thing I take in about the stranger. Dark bouncy curls. I suddenly get an image of myself running my fingers through them, just to catalogue what it feels like. Are they soft? Do they bounce back if you mess them up? I must know.

I banish the images from my head, mainly because it scared me at how easily the thought of touching this stranger came. I don't do touching. I hate it. The feel of someone else's skin even coming close to contact wit my own makes my skin crawl. I'm not to sure why I hate it, maybe it was just another way for me to distance myself but I really do loathe being touched and touching with all my being...

So why I suddenly wanted to have my hands all over this guy, I'll never know.

My eyes roam from head to toe of the young man. I guess this is the Mr. Holmes that Ms Hudson told me about.

He's wearing a grey suit with a tight purple shirt on underneath. It's all fitted and looks like he's gone to a tailor and paid stupid amounts to have it made perfectly.

The shirt's top two buttons were undone, showing off his long milky throat. After stepping into the room, he brings his hands up to his chin and I can't help but swallow as I take in his large hands. They're so big and I find myself wondering if he's any good with them.

His eyes flicker around the room, as if assessing everything with a mere glance. His eyes reach me, tucked away at the back, and I suck in a breath. His eyes... God, they're gorgeous. Just like an ocean, they were the perfect mix of blues and greens. And the way they lure you deeper into them. Jesus Christ. It's simply indescribable how perfect those orbs are.

They don't linger, although they certainly did flicker over me more than others in the room, before he's looking elsewhere, assessing other things.

I give him the once over again, drinking in his tall gorgeous self.

Hot damn. Ms Hudson was right, he is a looker.

"So?" Molly's voice suddenly breaks through my soundproof walls as our new teacher gracefully walks to the desk.

She looks so nervous, like she's going to be sick. I think she's shaking slightly, her hands looks like they're trembling as she moves a strand of her hair away from her tomato red face.

I blink a few times, trying desperately to remember what she asked me. I didn't listen. Again. I really am a terrible friend. I blanked Molly, whose clearly asking something of importance, to check out the new hot teacher.

What do I do now? I can't tell her I didn't listen, it'd probably cause her an emotional breakdown.

Just smile and nod, Jim. Smile and nod. Can't go wrong with that.

"Yeah, of course!" I say, listening to my subconscious as I nod and smile at Molly.

"Really?" The brunette girl's face suddenly lights up, she brings her hands up to her mouth attempting to hide her obviously massive grin.

"Uh... -yes! By all means!" I return the grin and laugh nervously, still unsure of what Molly asked me. Although she showed a good response when I said yes, so I assumed that's what I should keep doing.

"Okay! Pick me up at six tonight then!"

"Yep!" I again curl my lips up into a smile as Molly runs off to her seat, my brain then filters what she had just said. "-wait what?"

Luckily, she didn't hear that last part and I didn't have to explain that I wasn't listening, but I'm still so confused. My eyes glance over to where Molly's now sat, somewhat trying to read her mind in order to make sense of all this nonsense. I sigh loudly. It's no use. What the hell did I just agree to?

"Alright, alright. Settle down now." A deep, controlling voice then snaps me out of my thoughts.

In all honesty, it made me drool a bit. I lift my head up, hunting for the owner of that luxurious voice. Not surprisingly, I find my eyes once again following the new substitute, whom was currently arranging a few things behind his desk as everyone took their seats.

Once the rest of the class were paying attention, he began to introduce himself as Mr Holmes and further explained about his experience with the French language.

By the end of the lesson I may or may not have created a whole fantasy about my new French teacher speaking to me in that silky voice. Yep, that was sure to help me shed loads with the upcoming test!

The rest of the lessons pass in a blur of information that I didn't even try to take in, never mind make sense of. My mind continued to drift back to my French lesson. Mainly the sexy new teacher. Also, I still, for the life of me, could not remember what Molly had asked me.

All became clear during my second to last lesson. Unfortunately English was one of the few lessons where I was unable to hide at the back of the classroom and that meant people, for some reason, thought this meant I wanted to interact with them.

I sat next to a girl named Sally. Whore of school gossip. She yapped away about this couple breaking up and this one girl who shagged her boyfriend's best friend. Blah blah blah. The temptation to tell her to shut the fuck up and slap her make-up caked face was growing by the second.

Then she turned more towards me, an almost predatory grin on her over painted lips. "So.. I heard you agreed to go on a date with Mols?"

My lack of reaction was entirely forced. On the outside, I remained nonchalant and calm. Inside... That was a whole over story.

That. That's what I agreed to?! A date. A bloody date.

Well, shit.

This was so not good. I couldn't cancel on her, or tell her I wasn't listening, she'd be crushed and I really didn't want to lose the closest thing I have to a friend (that's my own age, anyway). I suppose I'll just have to bare through it, hope she decides that dating really isn't for us. Like, at all.

...And if she does decide it was 'us'? I'll still bare through it.

It's not as if there's anyone in my dull life at the moment, and there won't be any time soon either. So, I'd do it. I'd go on the date. I can't lose my only friend.

"Yeah.." I eventually reply to the awaiting gossip whore. "I'm picking her up at six"

Tonight. Six o'clock. A date with Molly.

I really need to start bloody listening when someone's speaking to me.