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Hell.
Ms. Anderson was ten times more annoying than old Riley. If Gabriel had to put up with her asking students to come up to the whiteboard and struggle through problems in front of the class, at least she should have legs to write home about.
He worried about getting called, but she seemed to be going in alphabetical order and the class was almost over. Merrick was safely stationed in the second half of the alphabet.
He glanced to his right. Layne looked equally bored. Then again, she could probably do these equations in her head.
And what was with her and the old turtlenecks?
Gabriel watched her a moment too long, hoping she’d feel the weight of his eyes and turn her head. But she didn’t, and he finally felt like a freak and turned back to the front of the class with a sigh.
Taylor Morrissey turned around in her seat and flicked a piece of paper his way.
He caught it and unfolded it under his notebook.
Pink gel pen, scripty letters.
Why are you staring at, lesbo?
Because Layne had helped him. Because he was intrigued. Because he’d learned when his parents died that it wasn’t human nature to help, not really. It was human nature to seek out vulnerability and squash it.
That’s why he didn’t buy this bullshit with the Guide.
Taylor glanced over her shoulder, hair and lip gloss equally shiny.
Gabriel gave her a confused look and shrugged, like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Gabriel Merrick.”
Oh, shit.
He snapped his eyes forward, surprised at how fast his palms went damp. “What?”
Ms. Anderson gestured to the board. “Do you care to tackle the next problem?”
He gave her half a smile. “Not really, no.”
Three girls near him giggled. Ms. Anderson didn’t even crack a smile. “Humor me.”
He stared at the board. There was a triangle there, numbers written along two of the three sides, another number tucked into one of the angles.
“Solve for the missing side,” said Ms. Anderson. “We’ve been doing this the whole period.”
That didn’t mean he’d been listening for the whole period.
“Just look at the previous one,” Layne hissed under her breath. “It’s the exact same formula.”
He glanced at the problem to the left. Jake Bryerly had found the answer. A completely different triangle, with lengthy equations laid out in rows beneath it.
He’d never be able to do this.
“Mr. Merrick?”
Gabriel slid from behind his desk and approached the board.
He wished he had his lighter.
Instead, he picked up a dry-erase marker and stared at the triangle. He’d never known a simple shape could be so intimidating.
