Five

Cassandra felt awkward after succeeding with her attack. Moreover, the look in Marc's eyes made her feel even more embarrassed. Her face felt heated, as if her blood flow became very smooth.

"Sandra, you can't do something like that," Marc said after recovering his consciousness. "Especially not with just any guy. You -"

Once again Cassandra landed her kiss, silencing the high-pitched sentence Marc was about to launch at.

Marc's heart skipped a beat when the soft, rubbery sensation landed on his lips again. And unfortunately, he couldn't control his desire at the moment. The man no longer cared about their kinship status, instead he returned the peck with passion.

"Ah!" Marc cried out. The man released his hug. He stared at his niece in annoyance.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Isn't that what you want? Why did you bite me?"

The man grabbed the tissue on the dashboard. He wiped the blood off his lips.

"I had to," Cassandra replied guiltily. "After all...if you doesn't stop, I'll be really late for my first class."

Marc shakes his head. He felt this was a warning to him. A warning that he shouldn't let his feelings grow.

In a short time, Cassandra arrived at her lecture. What had been a gloomy morning had turned bright. In fact, everyone looked so friendly in her eyes. Starting from Mr. Sam, the gatekeeper to Mr. Lou, the killer lecturer who crossed her path.

"Good morning, sir!" Cassandra greeted him with a bright smile on her face.

"Good morning," he replied with one hand holding a thick textbook. "What's the time? Why aren't you in class yet?"

Seeing the book raised into the air as if threatening her life, Cassandra ran away. She chuckled while running through the deserted hallway.

Not only that, but even during class, she still couldn't forget the moment she shared with her uncle Marc that morning. She can still feel the warmth of Marc's lips on hers. She could still feel his tongue exploring her mouth.

"Cassandra, try to explain the point of the discourse we're discussing today!" Ms. Viona seemed to realize that the girl was only physically present, like a shell without content. Her mind was flying around without direction.

Hearing her name called, Cassandra suddenly stood up from her seat. Her face looked instantly tense. She gazed around her, of course looking for help from her friends. What she needed right now was the answer to her language teacher's question.

But none of them helped her. It seems the answer to this question is not easy. Only Hanny, her best friend, gave the code, she pointed her finger at the sheet of paper that was distributed at the beginning of the lesson earlier.

"What did Farhan and Risa feel in that discourse? What conflicts are raised by the author? Isn't everything clearly spelled out in the narration?" urged Mrs. Viona, the woman in her thirties stepping up to her.

"Farhan is angry with Risa because he doesn't want to lose her. She doesn't want to admit the feelings she's harbored for years because she's afraid of losing her, and vice-versa."

"That's right. All feelings are clearly narrated through the author's diction, right?" said Ms. Viona. The pretty lecturer was pleased that Cassandra could answer her question well.

"No, Ma'am."

Cassandra's reply made Ms. Viona frown. "Explain why."

"The writer expresses his writing in a long-winded way. In fact, why doesn't Farhan just say it right away if he loves Risa, and vice versa. I think with a plot like this, readers will feel bored with the story revolving in the same place.

Ten years isn't a short time. If not in words, Farhan can do it in deeds. If it's neither, then we can conclude that Farhan doesn't love Risa."

Hearing Cassandra's answer, Ms. Viona's face immediately turned red.

"Okay, then all of you please make a short story of three sheets of paper. I want to see how good you are at crafting diction and narrating with a plot of your own."

"Huuu!" The entire classroom shouted.

Cassandra sat back in her seat. She cast her eyes around the classroom. From the noise she heard, it was easy for her to deduce that her friends were blaming her for the assignment.

"Why are you being so stupid, calling Ms. Zissy's writing wordy! We're the ones who are bothered by an unclear assignment like this," a fat girl complained just as the lecturer had left the class.

Hearing that sentence, Cassandra was taken aback. "T-that... The discourse was Ms. Zissy's, Han? Are you sure it was made by her?"

"Ah ... that's why, when you read, read completely! Make it a habit to read! There's her name listed in the author section too." Hanny pointed to a name printed smaller just below the discourse title.

"Oh, my God! She must be mad at me right now."

Hanny squared her shoulders. "There's no other way. You have to apologize to her. Go to her house, instead of losing your grades."

"Ah! What a bummer!"

The incident instantly put Cassandra back in a bad mood. How could she apologize to Mrs. Zissy, when she didn't even feel guilty. Everything she'd said was true. The story was just too far-fetched for Cassandra.

There was only one way to get the lecturer's to forgive her, or at least consider not giving her a bad grade, and that was to bring her father into this case. But this time she couldn't use her father as he was away.

"Uncle Marc!" Cassandra called out. She knocked impatiently on her uncle's bedroom door.

Shortly after, Marc came out of his room. He stared in astonishment at his crumpled-faced niece. He guessed that something had happened.

"What's wrong? Did you have a fight with your friend? Is something wrong?" Marc scolded. "Tell me, who dared to do all this?"

The usual cheerful face was nowhere to be seen, only a gloomy face with pursed lips in front of him.

"My lecturer got angry with me. Just because I was too honest in answering her question," Cassandra reported.

"Honest?" Repeated Marc in disbelief. "What kind of teacher doesn't like their students being honest? Looks like I need to see her!"

"So... Uncle, do you wants to accompany me to meet my lecturer? Honestly, I'm afraid my grades will be dropped just because of this."

"Yeah! I think I should give her a lesson on how to be a good teacher!"

Cassandra smiles happily. "Thank God! Ms. Viona, you're finished! That's crazy that you gave us that many essays to write."