The Bad Boy's Muse

Tiny, little sparks...

Rohan's POV

"Good day students, this is Grace from England and she'll be joining your class," Principal Reed announced to the class, but I wasn't paying attention to him. I fixed my eyes on her.

The first time I saw her, my heart skipped a bit as I regarded the scared girl that kept tugging at her gown.

She was beautiful. The most beautiful girl I had set my eyes on since I enrolled here. Ever seen or imagined a weird colour combination; on a normal day, a girl with hazel eyes and blond hair the colour of platinum would have looked so strange, especially if her skin was so white, but this blond will make me want to pull over and look again and again. Long legs peeked out from the denim gown enclosed by a pair of black sneakers. She wore a unique style in her hair today. They pulled it to the back of her head, showing exquisite features with a sharp bone structure that would make anyone look ugly but defined her. 

Her lips were trembling as she tried to maintain eye contact with the class. I wanted to draw her, to paint every emotion that danced on her face. To draw those perfect lips that were puckered in right now... I wanted to paint Grace from England.

"Grace, say hi to the class," Principal Reed urged.

"H-hey, H-hi" she stuttered as she waved her hands strangely.

"Well, I admonish all of you to treat Grace kindly and with no form of bullying. Grace, I see an empty seat beside Mr Rohan you can go sit there," Principal Reed pointed in my direction. 

She raised her head and started walking in my direction. Then, our eyes met, her Hazel eyes widened in curiosity and surprise as she held my gaze for the shortest of time possible making tiny, little sparks fly. Automatically, she smiled, showing perfect white dentition while I fought the urge not to smile back.

"Hi," she called out to me as soon as she settled next to me.

I refused to look in her direction. 

"Hello." she poked me with a pen.

"How may I help you," I turned to her with a stern expression, hoping you will get the message.

"Uh...my name is Grace, and I was wondering since we sit next to each other if you'll be interested in becoming friends with me." she smiled.

"No," I said curtly and continued looking at the board.

Her lips formed into an 'o' as she regarded me with confusion. Thankfully, she sat back in her seat and stayed quiet. 

***

Grace's POV

"Miss Wilson," the teacher called out my name. It felt so strange to be called a Miss when I was used to Lady.

"Yes," I answered automatically.

"Can you tell us any childhood memory?" she asked.

"Well, I've got quite a lot, depending on the exact one you want," I answered with a smile. I love talking about myself.

"Well, you can choose anyone or the one you like the most and tell the class," the woman told me.

"Okay. This story happened when I was barely 11, I and my sister Beatrice were...".

"Miss Wilson?" the teacher interrupted me "never been to a proper school before?" she asked.

"No" I shook my head in the negative.

"Well, whenever you're asked to explain to the class or tell it stories, you need to be on your feet and address them not to sit," the teacher told me.

"Oh!" I stood from my seat, wondering how soon I was going to get used to the American ways. 

Today when I was coming to school, my Aunt Harriet had advised me to blend with the students and assured me the making friends would not be as hard as it sounded, yet I had met my first attempt yesterday but I got a big rejection.

"So, Miss Grace, can you tell us any childhood memory you remember?" the teacher asked me again.

"Yes, of course," I replied with a smile. What followed was a peal of laughter from the rest of the class as they huddled together, whispering to each other with a smile.

"When I was barely 11, I and my sister Beatrice were left at home without a chaperone because my mother had gone for a ceremony though not outside town but within. So, I and Beatrice were told not to move out of the house until a Nanny comes but after a while, Beatrice got bored and urged me to go with her to the garden stating we were just going to the garden alone and pick flowers and look at butterflies and...".

The entire class burst into laughter, making my cheeks stained with embarrassment. I looked towards the teacher for help but discovered she was trying to control herself from laughing.

"Miss Grace, as much as your story sounds exciting, it is not exactly what we are looking for. I am sorry. I think it's best you listen to another person in the class." the teacher smiled at me, making a sign for me to sit down.

I sat down, trying to swallow my humiliation. The world was nothing I had read about in all of Miss Rose's novels. I sighed gently, trying not to think about the person sitting beside me. He was handsome, more handsome than all the boys I had seen back home. His jet-black hair was curled to one side of his head. Light brown eyes had stared stern at me with brows that were constantly furrowed in a frown. He pursed his pink lips into a thin line of disapproval. The scowl on his face made him look really mean. 

I sneaked another peek at him and noticed how his concentration was on the teacher while he jotted something down in his book once in a while. All these were strange to me. I had never been to a proper school environment and did not know how I am supposed to behave.

"Miss Grace?" the teacher shook me out of my reverie.

I jumped up, still trying to find the right title to call her. 

"Yes, Teacher," I whispered, hating the way everyone was staring at me.

"No, my name is Mrs Nidhi," she chuckled, "and you don't have to stand up from your seat whenever I call your name. All you need to do is respond; yes ma'am so I will know you're paying attention to me,".

"Anyway," she turned towards the class "As part of your term paper, you'll write an essay on any favourite childhood memory of your choice containing 600 words and it is important to note that childhood memory ranges from what happened to you in the past as a child. It should have an element of interest, engaging and relatable. I will upload the rubric for the assignment to your dashboard and you have just a week before submission that should give you enough time to write," Mrs Nidhi concluded.

Everything was sounding gibberish and strange to me as I struggled to understand everything that she was talking about. The teacher finally left the class, and I sighed in relief, still trying to recover from the shock of being doubly humiliated I remained quiet in my seat. 

The class had come alive as different people huddled together, talking and laughing. Everyone seemed to be happy except me and Rohan. Rohan was busy doodling into a notebook with his pencil. I wished I could really talk to him, perhaps I can try again.

"Hey!" I called gently, praying silently that he looks towards me.

He arched his brow in a frown as he finally looked in my direction.

"What is it?" he barked.

"Uhmm... I want to ask for your apologies. It seems I offended you some minutes ago. I am really sorry," I responded.

He stared at me for a while before looking away "you don't have to apologize for anything" he shrugged his shoulders.

"oh! Thank you," I whispered with a smile and relaxed back on my seat. 

"Is this your first time here?" he was staring at me strangely, sending chills down my spine.

"Y-yeah... I'm-mean," I stuttered, "are you asking if this is my first time in America or my first time in a school?".

"They both," he replied curtly.

"Yeah! this is my first time in America and the first time in a school," I sighed.

"Where are you from?" he raised an eyebrow towards me.

"I am from Bristol, that is, in England." I fidgeted with the hem of my gown.

"So, you're a princess?" he looked at me with amusement.

"No, I am just a Lady, soon when I become much older I will be a princess. My Dad was an earl," I explained hurriedly, trying my best not to confuse him.

"You sound really strange when you speak." he shrugged his shoulders again.

"And you too, most of the words you say here differ from the way we would have it in Bristol, but I guess it's all part of the diversities in languages," I smiled.

"I guess so. Anyway, my name is Jasper Rohan Arya." he stretched his right hand towards me.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Jasper, I am Lady Grace Wilson." I returned the smile and placed my hand on his.

We held hands for seconds, while he stared gently at me...

"You're beautiful," he muttered with a smile, gently removing his hands from mine.

"I-I..." I stammered "thank you," I said trying to actor normal.

"You're good-looking too." I didn't know if I was supposed to return the compliment, but it didn't feel out of place.

"I know." he smiled at me.

"Pardon?".

"I said," his eyes ran my length "I know I am good-looking,".

"Oh!" I managed a smile. The conversation was becoming awkward.

"Still, you've got the most beautiful eyes I have seen in a long while,".

"Thank you," I smiled shyly.

That was the most beautiful thing someone had said to me since my Father's death.