Why?
That is the real fucking question.
And honestly, I don’t know.
“What has you looking so pensive?” Isaak asks, dragging me out of my thoughts, one brow raised lazily.
“None of your business.”
“Saw Ms Elena… or was it Eva?” He shakes his head dismissively. “Irrelevant.”
His expression turns vaguely amused. “I saw her leaving your classroom and assumed you would be in a considerably better mood after fucking some of that aggression out of your system.Chemical release tends to help with stress.”
Disgust twists in my stomach at the mere suggestion. “I didn’t fuck her.”
Isaak blinks. “Interesting. That is rather out of character for you.”
“No. It actually isn’t,” I snap, which only irritates me further because I don’t bloody snap.
“What do you want?” I ask a moment later, calmer this time.
“Professor Wardgrave. Disturbing image, really. I also wanted to make certain none of your students ended up dead during your lecture.”
“I assume you came prepared to clean up the body if I did.”
Isaak looks thoroughly bored and offers no response whatsoever as he turns to leave.
“Set me up with a match. I need to burn off some fucking tension,” I add.
“Something is clearly going on with you,” Isaak says, not even bothering to turn around. “Fortunately for you, your issues are none of my concern.”
“So fucking fortunate,” I mutter as he reaches the door.
“The match,” I remind him. “And make sure it is someone worthwhile this time.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
Then he’s gone.
I look back down at the papers, attempting to focus, but it’s fucking pointless. My attention lasts all of thirty seconds before the aggravation creeps back under my skin.
So I stand and leave.
And like some thoroughly pathetic version of myself I never thought I would become, I spend the rest of the evening waiting for the clock to strike seven.
Chapter5
Piper
I untie my skates and pull them off, my feet sore after hours on the ice. The cold remains on my skin as I put my trainers on and tie the laces.
I place my skates carefully into the locker, pull an oversized hoodie over my head, and grab my bag.
Being on the ice always clears my mind.
Or at least it attempts to.
St. Monarché Academy does has its advantages. One of them being the private ice rink I can use whenever I please. Ophelia has the equestrian centre for her riding, for example, and practically every hobby, activity, or profession imaginable exists somewhere on these grounds.
