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Figures. Stupid as hell, just like her mother.
I snorted as I made my way toward the back row. I sure as hell wasn’t taking the seat behind Rae. I mean, I didn’t want to smell the musty stench of her house all damn period. I flopped myself in the back corner desk, where I pushed my sunglasses up my f
ace. And as that stuck up, preppy little Allison leaned in toward Rae, I saw the two of them whisper to one another. Exchanging secrets about me.
I mean, it was painfully obvious they were talking about me.
Thanks for making me the center of your world, ladies.
The teacher clapped her hands. “All right. Now that our daily distraction is over, let’s get back to the syllabus.”
I raised my hand. “Mrs. Christ?”
“You can get a syllabus at the end of class. Take notes while you’re here, and don’t be late to my class again.”
I heard giggles rising up from the front corner of the classroom. Allison, with her bright blond hair, and Rae. With her plain brown hair, her annoying little freckles, and her dark eyes. Like blackened pits of despair that reeked of the desolate wasteland called ‘her neighborhood.’
I watched her throughout class. I watched Rae tuck her foot up under her thigh, splaying it out more against her seat. The teacher rambled on about shit I didn’t care about as Rae’s frizzy ponytail swung against her back. That jacket slipped from her shoulders, revealing a softly-toned strength underneath them that called for a second glance.
Or a really fucking long stare.
Maybe she’s not all pig fat, after all.
“Mr. Clarke?”
I whipped my head to the front of the classroom as Mrs. Christ called my name.
“Yep?”
The teacher sighed. “Can you answer for the class why world history is so important?”
I licked my lips. “Uh, because it’s important to know thine enemy?”
Some of the class giggled, but all Rae did was stare at the whiteboard, studiously ignoring me, even though I knew she felt me staring. I knew she felt my presence. I knew she wanted to look back, too. Allison kept peeking. Snickering. Shaking her head at me, like some disapproving mother. I guessed she was preparing for her future role as a stay-at-home soccer mom, ready to punish her kids with a swift blow of her angry gaze.
If her future husband was lucky enough, she’d put out a decent blowjob every once in a while.
“Mr. Clarke,” the teacher said curtly.
I sighed. “What?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Tuck in the attitude and consider this a reflection of your daily grade. What’s the importance of world history?”
“I take it my answer wasn’t an acceptable one.”
Allison scoffed. “Obviously, idiot.”
The teacher frowned. “Miss Denver, let me handle it.”
I grinned. “Then handle it a little better this time around.”
The class oohed, and it caused me to smile widely. I loved getting underneath my teachers’ skin. Why they kept promoting me up grades, I’d never understand. Why they kept giving me grades I never earned, I’d never get. Maybe they didn’t want to put up with me anymore. Or maybe my parents had given so much money to this damn place that they felt they couldn't fail me. Either way, it wasn’t as if my parents were in town to do anything about it.
I mean, they had at least a day’s worth of flights ahead of them before they could even think about popping me upside my head.
Mrs. Christ nodded curtly. “Is there anyone else that wants to join Mr. Clarke in a daily failing grade?”
I shrugged. “Not my fault you don’t care about your enemies.”
