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“Thank you,” Lathan tells me before scowling at whoever is behind me. “Lucy, just leave her alone. It’s never easy being the new kid.”
The tiny Asian girl looks me up and down. “Oh, I bet it’s really easy for her. All she has to do is spread her legs and she’ll fit right in.”
Lathan grunts and looks disgusted, but it’s all I can do not to laugh out loud. Oh, for fuck’s sake, are teenagers really this fucking ridiculous? Is it too late for me to pretend to go to college?
Before either of us can respond to the load of garbage that just came out of her mouth, the door to the room opens once more.
“Bonjour! Asseyez-vous et sortez vos livres s’il vous plaît.” A beautiful blonde woman glides into the room and instructs everyone to take a seat and get their books out as she puts her bag down on the desk.
What is it with the women in this town and all their pastel colors? This one is wearing a pastel pink pencil skirt that is so tight, she needs to take little steps in her four-inch heels, and her tight, black top is really indecent if she’s going to lean down in front of teenage boys. She looks around the room, smiling until she gets to me.
“Oh, je vois que nous avons une nouvelle étudiante. Eh bien, je n'ai pas le temps de te dorloter donc tu devras te rattraper à ton propre rythme.” She condescendingly tells me she doesn’t have time to baby me and that I’ll have to catch up in my own time.
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I can keep up,” I reply in English, and I see her eyes widen before her brows furrow in a frown.
“We speak only French in this class, Miss…” She draws her pink polished finger down a sheet of paper on top of her desk. “Walsh, is it?”
“Oui je m'appelle Mackenzie, mais vous pouvez m'appeler Mac. Je m'en excuse. Je vais m’en tenir au français à partir de maintenant,” I reply, apologizing and promising to use French from now on.
She purses her lips like she’s annoyed, but there’s nothing else she can say without seeming like she’s a bitch. I also bet only a quarter of the class is fluent. While Ryland, Sophie, and one or two others seem to have kept up with the conversation, everyone else seems to only be catching bits and pieces. The groans when she tells everyone we’re having a pop quiz basically confirms it for me.
The rest of French class is quiet after she hands out the quiz, and I breeze through it in no time and finish halfway through the allotted time. The teacher, who still hasn’t introduced herself, sits at the front of the class and sends text messages for the whole hour, not even looking up once she’s made herself comfortable.
When I get up to hand her the quiz, I get incredulous looks from everyone around me as well as the teacher before she dismisses me with a wave of her hand, so I gather up my things and wait outside. Just outside the door is a trophy case that contains shiny silver trophies and a whole heap of photos and things. I step up to examine it, my eyes sweeping over the various achievements from years past. A familiar face in an old photo catches my eye. When I look closer, I see that it’s a group of people. Divinity of Morality, class of 1990. What the fuck is that? Some chastity group? Martha and James are both recognizable. They are standing with a number of other men and women, one of whom I recognize as Governor Turner.
Before I can take out my phone to google that club, the bell rings and people spill out of the classroom. I quickly take a picture of the photo as Ryland approaches with Miller. Their heads are close together, and they have small, secretive smiles on their faces. I feel my cheeks redden as I wonder if Miller is telling him about what happened last night. Surely he wouldn’t involve a teenager, but they quickly break apart as they get to me. Miller’s face blanks once more, but Ryland smiles brightly.
“Oh good, you waited. We have history next. It’s this way. Come on.”
I put my phone back in my pocket and follow them like a little lost puppy, making sure I memorize the way because I don’t want to have to rely on him tomorrow.
Chapter 12
I’m quiet as we walk along the crowded hallway to our next class. I let the two of them walk in front of me, and I’m happy to follow behind, but they soon stop and wait for me to catch up.
Ryland breaks the awkward silence that had fallen over us. “Ms. Standish was not happy about you showing her up. She’s a bitch like that.”
“Standish? As in Martha and James?” I ask, looking from boy to boy. They have me pinned between them, so I have to swing my head from side to side.
“Yeah, she’s their niece and Sophie’s older sister.” Well, shit. I guess the two sisters both took an instant dislike to me.
“Fuck,” I grumble quietly to myself, and the two boys chuckle as we enter the next classroom.
Like the last one, it’s filled with many of the same people, and there’s only one seat left once Miller and Ryland hurry to two vacant ones at the back. It’s in the front, and I quickly slide into it as a teacher enters the room. He closes the door behind him and steps behind his desk, and I just about swallow my tongue. What is it about this school? Is there a rule that you must be attractive to work here?
The man in front of me is young, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, and he’s wearing a pair of black slacks with a light blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his sexy forearms. His face is a work of art, with blue eyes that really pop with his shirt and sinful lips that make me want to take a bite out of them. He has a chiseled jawline and blond hair that looks to have some curl to it, but it’s cut short enough to disguise it. His narrowed eyes sweep around the room, eventually landing on me.
“You must be Mackenzie Walsh. I’m Mr. Turner, welcome.”
I give him a little smile. The man is surprisingly intimidating with his intensity, and I quickly break eye contact.
Fuck, Kenz, get your head in the game. You’ve faced arms dealers, dictators, and mob bosses with ease, and one hot high school teacher gets you to crack.
Someone needs to slap me now. Maybe Miller’s hit to the face and the tumble down the stairs did more damage than I thought.
“Okay, let’s get back to what we were working on last week. Can someone explain to Ms. Walsh what we are studying at the moment?” He looks around the room and points a finger. “Yes, Sophie.”
I tune out as Sophie talks about what they did in class. I don’t really care, because I’m not actually here to learn. I really need to set up a meeting with Team Bastards so we can come up with a game plan. Working with other people sucks, but I don’t want to investigate in places they already have. Not to mention if they are so distracted by teenage girls, I bet they haven’t gotten anywhere at all. They really need to be exploring business connections in town and seeing if anyone is earning more money than they should be. Lathan may be my best bet to work with. His computer skills far exceed my own, so maybe we could work that angle together.
