"Blueberry pancakes?" he repeats, savoring each word like a flavor on his tongue. "Now you are talking my language. With extra whipped cream, obviously. I would probably complain about you burning them," he adds with a smirk, nipping playfully at her earlobe. "Just so you know ahead of time that I will find something to criticize even in paradise." Zack warns Anna. "That's alright. I am pretty sure I know how to distract you…" Anna says suggestively. Zack's breath catches, the suggestive tone in her voice sending a jolt of pure want straight to his core. His body responds instantly, muscles tense as he imagines all the ways she might distract him. The casual setting– lunch on a bench in full view of students– becomes irrelevant. "Oh yeah?" he challenges, his voice dropping to a low growl. "And what kind of distraction are we talking about here? Because if you are suggesting what I think you are…" He shifts closer, his hand sliding from her hip to rest possessively on the bare skin of her lower back where her shirt has ridden up. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh just above her waistband. "Because if you are offering to distract me right here," he murmurs against her temple, "You should know I am not exactly good at keeping my hands to myself when someone starts talking like that."
"I know you aren't," Anna says and gently cups his cheeks. "But you will have to wait until this afternoon. I was thinking after school, let's go to the library and finish our homework. And then we can go to your place and indulge our desires without worry." Zack's green eyes flash with a mix of frustration and excitement at her suggestion. The idea of waiting until this afternoon feels agonizingly far away, especially with her hand cupping his cheek so tenderly. "Library and homework?" he groans, dramatically and rests his forehead against hers. "You are seriously trying to torture me with academic responsibilities right now?" His hand moves from her back to tangle in her brown hair, gripping gently but firmly. "Fine, fine. I will suffer through calculus problems if it means getting you alone afterward." The bell rings in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period. Students begin filtering back toward the main building, their voices growing louder as they approach the football field. "We should probably get going before someone sees us like this," he says reluctantly, though he makes no immediate move to stand up. His thumb strokes along her jawline as he studies her face intently.
"Yeah," Anna says and leans forward to kiss him lightly on his cheek. "What subjects do you have now?" she asks, her hand falling away from his cheek to close her lunch tin and places it in her purple backpack. "I have biology," she adds while zipping up her backpack. Zack watches her pack away her lunch tin, his expression shifting from desire to reluctant practicality. The brief kiss on his cheek leaves a warmth that lingers even as students begin filing past their bench. "Biology for you," he confirms with a sigh, running a hand through his bleached blond hair. "Figures. I have got tourism next with Mr. Oghren– the class where I usually fall asleep halfway through." He stands up slowly, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that is equal parts frustration and effort. The movement pulls his black metallica t-shirt tighter across his chest, highlighting the defined muscles earned from years of going to the gym. "Great," he mutters sarcastically. "Two hours of listening to Mr. Oghren drone on about global tourist attractions while all I can think about it getting you naked later." His green eyes scan the dispersing crowd around them before focusing back on Anna. Meet me at the library entrance after the last bell. Don't be late."
"I won't," Anna says and stands up from the bench. She swings her purple backpack over her shoulder and picks up the brown paper bag of fries. "Do you want to keep the fries for in between class snacking?" she asks thoughtfully. Zack glances at the brown paper bag of fries she is holding out to him, a small smile tugging at his lips at her thoughtful offer. The simple gesture feels surprisingly intimate given their recent confession and heated moments. "Yeah, I will take them," he agrees, snatching the bag from her fingers with a quick movement. "Thanks for thinking of me." His fingers brush against her intentionally as he takes the brown paper bag of fries, the brief contact sending another jolt through him. The hallways are filling quickly with students heading back to class, forcing them to join the flow of traffic. "See you later," he says gruffly, giving her one last intense look before she turns toward the science wing where her biology class is located. "Try not to miss me too much during dissection."
Zack walls in the opposite direction, towards his tourism class. His tourism class is on the far east side of the school grounds. Inside the class, the desks are arranged in a loose grid pattern, facing toward the front of the room. The desks are made from light-colored wood that form a curved writing surface and are attached to dark plastic chairs, supported by metal legs. At the front of the classroom, there is a bulletin board with a bright yellow background, displaying a black-and-white photograph. On the wall beside the rows of tables and chairs, there is a large whiteboard stretched across most of the front wall's width and the board is filled with assignments, reminders and handwritten notes. Some areas are bordered with green and pink colored paper. Above the whiteboard there is a decorative strip, displaying small, illustrated cards and posters related to Tourism. A few students are already inside when Zack walks in, Mr. Oghren is sitting at the back of the room, at his desk. Zack slumps into his usual seat at the back of Mr. Oghren's classroom, the brown paper bag of fries resting on his desk like a trophy from their illicit lunch date. Other students start filling the classroom and Mr. Oghren moves to the front of the class and stands in front of the whiteboard beside the bulletin board. Mr. Oghren is a dwarf like man with a light Scottish accent. He has a large, stocky build, and has a long, thick red beard, and matching red hair pulled back into a rough bun. He is wearing a brown tweed blazer over a shirt and tie. "Guid mornin', class– let's start the day wi' a wee bit o' cultural exchange," Mr. Orghren says, and he turns on the projector with a remote.