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Chapter 14
Astrid
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and when I turn around, Bryce is watching me while he chews on the tip of his pen. That’s supposed to be his sexy look, I guess, and he’s working it with his blond hair falling into his eyes. Ha, I could teach him if I wanted to. But right now, I want to pay attention to Professor Getz. I didn’t opt out of his class in lieu of the Investors Club. Learning about money is my goal now, and Stonehaven is the place for me to learn it.
Professor Getz pauses and stares out at the class. “Mr. Shelton, instead of staring at Ms. Bowen’s legs, explain to the class what market equilibrium is.”
A few kids giggle but stop as soon as Bryce starts to answer the question. I listen intently to every word he speaks, slowly turning my head until our gazes meet. I stare at him with my lips parted, and my breathing deepens. He has my full attention now as I’m desperate to know what he knows. He smirks as I now watch him as hard as he’s been watching me. Bryce knows I’m desperate—we both are, but for different things.
Knowledge is his power over me. If he wants to turn me on, he’ll teach me how to be rich like him.
“An adequate answer, Mr. Shelton,” replies Professor Getz. He turns his back on the class and returns to the board, scribbling a diagram that might as well be a drawing from an ancient tomb in a foreign land. I glance over my shoulder again at Bryce. His pink lips are stretched in a smirk. He winks, and then a piece of paper hits the back of my calf.
While Professor Getz is busy at the board, I stretch my arms overhead and turn slightly to the side. I know what I’m doing to Bryce. I arch my back, pushing my breasts against the ridiculous button-down shirt that gaps like crooked teeth. I don’t look at him as I sweep my arm quickly down and grab the note off the floor. Cell phones in class are strictly forbidden, so passing notes is like playing chicken. How quick or clever are you without getting caught? Well, no one is going to catch me.
I unfold it on my lap and read it. Pay attention, dumbass.
Fuck him, the little jerk. I twist the paper in my hands while keeping my gaze front and center. If I didn’t need Bryce Shelton, I’d kick his ass.
“Ms. Bowen.” Professor Getz stands at the front of the row, eyeing me impassively. I tuck the note under my thigh as my heart races. Funny and odd. Hardly anything scares me at the Pit, but this small man with the balding head just put a hard lump in my throat. And all he had to do was call my name.
“Yes, Professor Getz?” My voice sounds soft and airy, and I hate myself for showing weakness.
“Please explain to the class what economics is based on.”
I bite my lips together as my brain starts running away toward the deep end. I haul it back fast. It can’t desert me now. I glance at Professor Getz, and he has a slight smile on his face that I can’t decipher. Is he setting me up? Or am I being paranoid? No, people learn in this school, so he wants to hear my answer. I take a deep breath, knowing that any answer is better than no response.
“It’s based on people’s actions and reactions when goods and services are made, delivered, and bought.”
Professor Getz nods his head thoughtfully. “Close enough. It is a social science based on the allocation of resources.” He looks at me again as my muscles go limp in my seat. “It is based on people, not money. Very good, Astrid.”
My eyes widen for a moment, but I shut that shit down fast. The last time a teacher told me I had done well was in the second grade, and that’s when I was still going to a decent school. The teachers didn’t spend the whole class period shouting at the rotten kids, so we actually had time to learn. Another note hits the back of my calf, but I ignore it. Bryce can be a dick on his own time. It happens again, and I ignore it again. He doesn’t care about class. Why should he? He has his trust fund.
I can’t let money decide my actions, but Bryce already owns me. Glancing over my shoulder, I give Bryce a look that would’ve turned a smart man to stone. He scowls back at me and then glances down at the note by my heel, motioning with his eyes for me to pick it up. Let it rot. Why risk getting yelled at for some prissy boy that doesn’t know how to flirt?
It’s not even about that. Sitting up straight, I cross my arms over my chest and direct all my attention to the board. Professor Getz deserves respect because he’s teaching me something I need to learn. Besides, boys at Monarch don’t tease—they take. Not like this Stonehaven blue-ball crap.
The alarm on Professor Getz’s phone chimes, and he checks his watch. “Class dismissed.”
My curiosity makes me hesitate, and my knees tremble as I debate whether I should pick up the notes. Bryce starts walking past me and then abruptly sits down in the now-vacant seat in front of me. Prof Getz grabs his leather messenger bag and then stops to eye us. Bryce’s tie is undone, and his collar is open. He could get written up for that. His hair is a mess, as if he’s forgotten his product. Bryce leans back and crosses his foot over his knee, refusing to look at Professor Getz, who shakes his head.
“She is pretty, isn’t she? Mr. Shelton.” And then Getz walks out of the room.
My knee is bouncing wildly, but Bryce remains silent and aloof as he watches me tremble. I cross my legs. “What do you want to tell me?”
He stares at the notes by my feet. So, he wants to play games? Bryce left a nasty mark on my thigh after he warned me that I better listen to him. I’m not letting him trample all over me whenever he has a whim to do it.
“Why don’t you find someone else to get off on?”
Bryce grabs my wrist and twists it until my arm is pinned to the desk. I wasn’t prepared and that’s my stupidity. My cheek is pressed against the hard plastic surface, and I try to get him off me. The crazy fuck doesn’t care that the door is wide open, and we can be seen by anybody passing by. I try to get him off me, but it’s useless. He just tightens his grip.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you to pick up a note.”
“Fuck you, and let me go.”
He shakes me again, pressing me harder. I’m pinned until he decides to let me up. And when he does, I don’t care what he expects. I will kick his ass.
A kid walks into the classroom for the next class. He stops and stares at me like I’m the one doing something wrong. He hesitates as if he should do something. My breath is ramping up and I glare at the kid. He needs to mind his own fucking business.
