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“Either you can do this on your own or you can’t. If you act like a fool, then you’ll go back to biology. Some of the administration are balking at you being in this program, but I stuck my neck out for you. If my head gets chopped off because you act like an idiot, then I’m tearing your balls off, son.”

Besides the fact that his son is our brother, his attitude is why he’s a friend of the Terror. “Yes, sir.”

A grin cracks onto that weathered face and he pats my back. “I also told the administration you’d start leaving your cut at home.”

“Tomorrow.” I strode into school with it, and if I don’t leave school with it on, it’ll be the same as shuffling away with my tail between my legs.

“Tomorrow. There are four computers set up in a study room in the back. If you have questions, find me before or after school and I’ll answer.”

Duncan walks into his classroom, which sounds on the verge of going Lord of the Flies. He shouts at them to “Quiet down,” and because he can be an intimidating son of a bitch, they do. Then every eye lands on me.

Someone mutters, “Great,” and my eyes hit Kyle Hewitt in the back left corner. There’s no way this moron made it into an advanced class.

“Is there a problem, Hewitt?” Duncan asks.

“Not as long as you sit him far from me.” Kyle assumes he has the upper hand. Poor boy will cry when I nail his coffin shut with him in it still alive.

A knock on the door and two more guys appear.

“Is this the room for AP physics?” one of them asks while cowardly sizing me up.

“You’re late,” Duncan says, ignoring the guy who’s trying to explain why they’re late. “This is Razor, he’ll be taking the class with you. I want partner matchups turned in to me this afternoon. What are you, morons?”

Duncan’s across the room and yelling at some kid who has his hand caught in the blinds.

“Should we wait for the fourth person before we partner out?” one of the guys suggests, but I’m no longer listening as my gaze meets wide hazel eyes.

Breanna blinks when she enters the classroom and I want to kick myself for not thinking ahead that she’d test into this course. She scans the room full of students, spots Kyle fuming, and I decide it’s time to start fucking with the boy.

He demanded that I leave the situation with Breanna alone—threatening to destroy her if I interfere with his plan—but according to his rules, he can’t do shit if I’m hanging with her because of school. Time to inform him he’s not the only one holding some strings.

“Duncan,” I call, and that stops the low murmur of conversation that had started when Duncan went to untangle the idiot in the back.

“Yeah?”

“Miller’s my partner.”

Breanna’s head slowly tilts to the side as if I spoke in another language and she’s trying to translate what I said.

“Works for me.” He gestures to a room in the back. “Get in there and get working.”

The two guys head for the room, and when Breanna stays cemented in her spot, I wave my hand like a gentleman for her to go before me. I follow her as she trudges down the aisle. This time when Kyle looks at us, he doesn’t smirk. This time he’s pissed and I lift my lips in grim satisfaction. Game on.

Breanna

“ARE YOU INSANE?” I whisper-shout. “Have you absolutely lost your mind?”

Razor drops into the corner seat in the long, narrow room built to inventory textbooks. The walls are floor-to-ceiling metal shelves and have become a holding cell for me and the other AP physics students.

He angles his head so he can peer past me, and when I glance over my shoulder, I notice how the other pair reside as far from us as possible an entire classroom length away.

“Most people do think I’m crazy.” Razor kicks out his legs and folds his hands over his stomach. He wraps his booted foot around the leg of a chair and angles it toward me like he’s encouraging me to sit.

I collapse into it, then push back in an effort to create space between us. I prop my elbow on the table that houses our computer and lean my head into my hand as my stomach plummets. This situation is absolutely hopeless.

“Kyle’s mad,” Razor states.

“No kidding,” I mumble. “And he’s going to post that picture because of it. Do you care to explain how this helps me or were you lying to me about the whole protecting me garbage?”

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