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A girl walks into view from the turn in the stairwell. She looks at me like I was spawned, not born. Fuck. She hugs the rail, and we watch her slow progress as she eases past me, careful not to touch me. The second she’s past me, she flies up the stairs and out of sight. I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“You are eloquence and class whenever you open your big mouth,” Pierce smirks. “Looks like you’re always putting your foot in it.”
“Better my foot than your teeny weenie dick. Go…”
“Fuck myself?” he laughs, “Don’t have to. Slap myself. You’re also doing that. According to the gossip, you’re a talented dominatrix.”
“What are you laughing at?” I glare at Justin, who seemed like he might have been decent.
Justin sneers, his lips curling into a savage scowl. “I don’t know how you managed to trick Harmon, but you won’t do it again at my expense.”
“Your expense?” I mock him. “I had nothing to do with you choking on your answer.”
He laughs. “I’d like to see you choke on something big.” He glances back at Pierce, who nods his head. Justin looks back at me, and his gaze glides down my legs. The hungry look in his eyes places me on alert. Suddenly, I realize no one else is in the stairwell but us.
“I have to go to class,” I back away. “So, why don’t the two of you give each other a hand job?”
Pierce shakes his head. “See, she can’t stop talking dirty. I was dismayed when I found out that you were a student at the same institute of learning that I attended. But now, I understand how useful you will be for the student body.”
Justin steps closer. “Whatever he offered you, I’ll do better.”
He’s a little too close. It’s always the quiet ones. “I thought you were decent.”
He shrugs. “I’m better than agreeable if you want to give me a try.” He glances over his shoulder again at Pierce for encouragement. “I like girls with edgy looks.” His brown eyes sweep across the front of my tank top as he places a hand softly on my waist. “Sexy and tight. Are you tight, Astrid?”
His hand moves in a smooth sweep down and cups my ass. He squeezes my cheek like I’m a melon at the store waiting to be manhandled.
“Off me, pinhead.” I slap him hard across the cheek and hope he breaks his neck when his head whips backward. He straightens up and grins at me. His tongue touches the corner of his mouth then traces the edge of his full lips. His gaze is soft as he grins at me hopelessly.
Shocked, I move back when I realize the little creep just got off on being slapped.
Their obnoxious laughter follows me as I hustle back up the stairs. I’m picking up on the gossip as I strut down the hallway. I’m the bitch that sucks dick and then slaps my johns around until they pay me to stop. Well, I’d rather be a badass than a cowering wimp.
I hurry into economics class as the teacher writes his name on the board. This time, I get a seat in the front row by the window, and that will be my spot for the rest of the year—no musical chairs in class for me. I glance over and see the girl from the stairwell. I nod, but she looks away and refuses to move her head for the rest of the class. Fuck her.
The teacher turns around, and he barely looks older than the class, except he’s got a bald spot starting on his crown. He’s not that tall, but he’s slim with curly brown hair and a huge nose. I’m sure he got busted on that in school. Is it payback time? He looks us over with a weary look, and maybe he’s been at Stonehaven long enough to be jaded. He tosses the marker onto the dry-erase board.
“My name is Professor Getz. And I will attempt to teach you economics.” He shakes his head. “True economics. Not the economics daddy and mommy use to rip off the market while the middle class gets screwed.”
He pauses when someone in the back moans. “Mr. Bryce Shelton, we meet again.”
“Professor Getz,” Bryce leans back in his chair. “I enjoy your mistaken beliefs and look forward to dissecting them. Maybe one day you will understand how the economy works.”
“Little prick.” It’s barely audible, but I heard Getz say it. I glance over at Bryce, but he’s smirking as if Getz just paid him a compliment. Nobody says anything, and thankfully, Getz doesn’t make us stand up and say our names then answer a question. He asks questions, and a girl in the front keeps answering them, showing off her knowledge. He sighs as he spins the marker on the surface of his desk.
“Valerie, it’s time for one of your comrades to answer.” He waves a bored hand as he scans the room. He looks right at me and tilts a brow. “You,” he points, “Give me an example of supply and demand.”
I shrug my shoulders without thinking too hard. “If there’s not enough, the demand increases, driving up the price for the item but not necessarily the price of comparable items. If the supply is greater than the demand, the commodity sits, and the investor or business is forced to take a loss. It may gain a little traction at a cut rate, but the business will move on to something new that will attract the desired price.”
There’s a low whistle from the back, but I don’t turn my head. My gaze is on Professor Getz, who reassesses my status in his classroom.
“Very astute…”
“Astrid,” I reply, “Just Astrid.” I glance at Bryce behind me, and his snarky grin melts off his stuck-up face.
Getz chuckles, getting my reference. He tilts back in his chair, satisfied that he might have a class worth teaching this year. Or at least some cheap entertainment. He glances at his watch. “Before I let you loose on the world, you will read Chapters one, two, and three in your textbook or eBook, however you consume your media, and there will be a short quiz that counts toward your final grade.”
There are whimpers and a couple of moans. “I don’t care if you’re seniors,” replies Getz, “I’m still going to teach you, and you will learn.”
