AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Becca swung her bag higher on her shoulder and moved down the aisle to her seat, carefully avoiding Monica’s eyes.
New Kid looked up when she passed. “Hey—”
“Ohmigod, no,” said Monica. Her manicured hand latched onto his arm and a spill of blond hair pooled on his desk. Her boobs were going to explode from the neckline of her shirt in a minute.
Then she leaned in close and whispered into his ear, breaking off to glance at Becca more than once.
Yup, that had lasted about five minutes.
“Grow up,” Becca muttered. She dropped into her chair, busying herself with pulling a textbook from her backpack, finding a pen, and establishing the mental fortitude for the abuse that would start when Tommy sat down.
“Hey.”
It was Chris Merrick’s voice, his tone almost aggressive—and so startling that she jerked her head up, sure he was talking to her.
But he was standing next to New Kid, a hand braced on the nylon strap of his backpack. “You’re in my seat.”
New Kid lifted his head, a slow, deliberate movement. Becca watched him size up Chris—but his eyes widened fractionally when they got to Chris’s face. The bruising along his cheekbone and jaw had lightened, turning a mottled yellowish blue. His lip was healing, but you could still see a split.
Monica was staring, her lips slightly parted. “What happened?” she said, her voice soft with awe.
“Wow. Yeah.” New Kid settled back in his chair—a clear refusal to move. One eyebrow lifted, and his voice was dry. “Someone sit in your seat?”
Monica snorted with laughter and giggled behind her hand.
Chris leaned down, his blue eyes dark, like the ocean at night. The bag slipped off his shoulder to hit the floor.
Mr. Beamis chose that moment to step into the classroom. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Merrick. I presume you’re welcoming our new student?”
Chris put a hand on New Kid’s desk. “Welcome. Move.”
“Keep moving, Mr. Merrick,” said Beamis. His tone drew the attention of the rest of the class, and conversation died. “There’s a seat farther down. I suggest you find it.”
Chris didn’t move. Neither did New Kid.
Beamis dropped his briefcase on the top of his desk and snapped the latches. “Or would you prefer to find a seat in the office?”
Half the class did that stupid “Oooh” thing. Then laughed. Chris grabbed his bag and sighed, then walked six feet to drop into the next empty seat in the row.
Right next to Becca.
He didn’t even glance at her, just pulled a textbook from his bag.
“That’s Jocelyn Kanter’s seat,” she said under her breath. “You gonna make her fight you for it later?”
He stopped, turned his head, and looked at her from under his bangs. “You too?”
“I’m not the one who picked a fight over a chair.”
He looked away, so she did, too, staring down at the glossy pages of her textbook. From the corner of her eye, she saw New Kid glance her way, but she kept her gaze down and flipped a page, not wanting to make eye contact.
Furniture scraped along the tile floor. Students were moving desks, shifting the writing surfaces together. Becca threw her head up. What had she missed?
They seemed to be turning six rows of desks into three. She started pushing her desk to the right, watching the others to make sure she was following instructions she hadn’t heard.
“What are we doing?” she whispered to Chris.
“Succumbing to the whims of a bitter old man.” He shoved his desk the rest of the way, until it was up against hers.
