My biology classes - very different. We looked at plant cells and mitosis etc for reproduction, and did assignments on the benefits of genetic variation. Human reproduction was saved for the human biology class, and then only on a genetic level with haploid and diploid cells and the like. This stuff - not discussed once.
Unbelievably stupid. If decent logic is ever spotted in this, I may just faint.
And also? SPITE
* * *
'The blood vessels in Nora's face are widening and her skin is warming," Patch said. 'She knows she's being evaluated. She likes the attention, but she's not sure how to handle it.'
“I’m sorry?” I asked, jerking back from him in revulsion. “When did I become a tray of mince in the freezer at the supermarket?”
He smirked at me, giving me an itch in my arm to smack him upside the head and wipe it off his face.
“And you know, it is possible to say ‘blushing’ instead of describing the process of the nervous and emotional reflex that causes it,” I said, all pretence at civility dying with my embarrassment, quickly replaced with burning anger. “We’re all senior level biology students, we do know what it is.”
The class tittered, amused at the almost turn of the tables.
“I’d like to present my observations, sir,” I said airily, waving my hand in the air like an eight year old wanting to answer a question. “I select my potential boyfriends based on their prettiness and resemblance to a carrot and how stupid they are so they don’t outshine me!”
I got more of a laugh this time, and when I looked at Fitzpatrick, his smirk was gone, replaced by a flash of anger in his eyes and a frown. He reached forward, placing his hand on my forearm. I looked at it pointedly, giving him a cool glare. When he didn’t remove it I tried to shake it off, but he merely slid it down to my wrist as if holding me there.
Mistake, if that was what he wanted. I made a circular motion with my hand and wrist, forcing his hand to let go, before sweeping my notebook and cluttered pens into a pile. I stood up, holding them with one arm.
“If you’ll excuse me sir,” I said politely. “I need to go make a report for continued harassment after repeated requests to stop.”
I didn’t bother to wait for an answer before slinging my satchel over one shoulder and stalking out of the room. As I left, there was a muffled outburst of laughter, a supporting shout from Vee, a protest from Patch and a smile on my face.
What an arsehole.
* * *
End spite. I don't think I can handle touching the rest of the chapter. I wrote that half way through. Fuck this shit. Seriously. I am so angry at this book. I'm using fragments I'm so angry.
Unbelievably stupid. If decent logic is ever spotted in this, I may just faint.
And also? SPITE
* * *
'The blood vessels in Nora's face are widening and her skin is warming," Patch said. 'She knows she's being evaluated. She likes the attention, but she's not sure how to handle it.'
“I’m sorry?” I asked, jerking back from him in revulsion. “When did I become a tray of mince in the freezer at the supermarket?”
He smirked at me, giving me an itch in my arm to smack him upside the head and wipe it off his face.
“And you know, it is possible to say ‘blushing’ instead of describing the process of the nervous and emotional reflex that causes it,” I said, all pretence at civility dying with my embarrassment, quickly replaced with burning anger. “We’re all senior level biology students, we do know what it is.”
The class tittered, amused at the almost turn of the tables.
“I’d like to present my observations, sir,” I said airily, waving my hand in the air like an eight year old wanting to answer a question. “I select my potential boyfriends based on their prettiness and resemblance to a carrot and how stupid they are so they don’t outshine me!”
I got more of a laugh this time, and when I looked at Fitzpatrick, his smirk was gone, replaced by a flash of anger in his eyes and a frown. He reached forward, placing his hand on my forearm. I looked at it pointedly, giving him a cool glare. When he didn’t remove it I tried to shake it off, but he merely slid it down to my wrist as if holding me there.
Mistake, if that was what he wanted. I made a circular motion with my hand and wrist, forcing his hand to let go, before sweeping my notebook and cluttered pens into a pile. I stood up, holding them with one arm.
“If you’ll excuse me sir,” I said politely. “I need to go make a report for continued harassment after repeated requests to stop.”
I didn’t bother to wait for an answer before slinging my satchel over one shoulder and stalking out of the room. As I left, there was a muffled outburst of laughter, a supporting shout from Vee, a protest from Patch and a smile on my face.
What an arsehole.
* * *
End spite. I don't think I can handle touching the rest of the chapter. I wrote that half way through. Fuck this shit. Seriously. I am so angry at this book. I'm using fragments I'm so angry.
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