Page 59 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“You’re staring,” Trisha said quietly.

Catherine’s head quickly swung back around, and she frowned. “Didn’t mean to.”

Except … she kind of had.

It was hard not to stare at Cross Donati.

Especially when he looked like that.

“This is your class, right?” Trisha asked.

Catherine looked at the number over the doorjamb, and the teacher’s name on the plaque. “Yep.”

“Message me after you’re out.”

“Okay.”

Catherine glanced over her shoulder just before entering the classroom, only to see her presence hadn’t been missed like she had hoped.

Cross stared straight at her.

Older. Different. Trouble.

The jealousy bled away for a moment.

The butterflies took over instead.

“You’re late.”

“Oh, you’re still doing that thing where you state the obvious, huh?”

Catherine glanced up at Cross’s voice, finding him in a stare down with the World History teacher. Although, to be fair, Cross looked bored as hell. The teacher, Miss Dykor, on the other hand, looked fit to throw a book at his head.

“I see you’re still as rude as ever,” the teacher muttered.

Cross smirked. “You said arrogant wrong.”

Three weeks into the school year, and classes should have been set for students that discovered they wanted to switch because something wasn’t working, or they were short on required credits. Yet, there Cross stood, five minutes after the bell had already rang, ready to come into the class.

World History was only one of two eleventh grade courses Catherine had opted into for her tenth grade term. Two of the tenth grade classes were not required credits, and didn’t offer credits toward graduation at all. She opted into the higher level courses because her ultimate goal was to attend a university—even if she didn’t know what she wanted to study yet—and she wanted as many higher level and college prep courses as she could get on her transcript.

“Why are you in my class again, Cross?” Miss Dykor asked.

Cross waved a white slip in his hand. “Transferred in.”

“Transfers are over by the end of the second week, you know this.”

“Can’t help what the school wants.”

With a huff, the teacher took the slip and looked it over. “Seriously? They transferred you from Outdoor Pursuits into here?”

Cross shrugged. “Coach doesn’t like tired athletes at practice day after day. I can’t help where they made me go. It was here or fucking Health Studies, and I don’t need a round of abstinence-only Sex Ed; it’s all trash and it’s too little too late, anyway.”

“Language in my class, and that’s quite enough.”

“I’m just saying.”

The teacher looked down at the slip again. “Let’s see if we have a better go at it this year than we did the last, Cross. Actually make an attempt to pass the class this time around, seeing as how you do need the credit from this course to graduate when you’re a senior next year. Start by spending more days in the class than you did skipping it like before, huh?”