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I clear my throat. “Very true, sir.”
The muscle in his jaw tenses again as he pulls his hand from mine and sits back in his seat. “Do you have questions about the subjects?”
I shake my head, unclipping the pen from the clipboard. “Six subjects in total?” I question, meeting the principal’s intense gaze.
“Of your choice, yes.” He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “All students must take Physical Education, English and Math and your six chosen subjects.”
I’m surprised to hear they teach Math and English here. The list has fifteen different subjects, all of which don’t interest me in the slightest. I pick those that don’t sound too terrible, avoiding interrogation and torture like the plague.
Combat Training.
Leadership Strategy.
Money Laundering.
Strategical Planning.
Anatomy.
Law.
Once done, I glance up and find Principal Byrne watching me like a hawk. It’s rather unnerving, as this man knows how to intimidate, but perhaps because he’s so beautiful, it makes his stare more terrifying.
“Finished,” I say, passing him the sheet of paper.
He takes it and quickly scans my choices, raising a brow. “Combat training?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “After what happened to me, I’d say I need it, wouldn’t you?”
The edge of his lip lifts, but he quickly turns stern. “I’d say you held your own against three very vicious girls.”
My heart thuds harder at the compliment. “It never hurts to improve,” I say, looking anywhere but at him. “Is there space in these classes?”
He clears his throat. “Yes, there’s space.” His brow furrows. “You’ll have to watch out for Archer, though, the combat training tutor.” He regards me with an odd look. “He has a thing for blondes.”
My brow furrows. “Are you suggesting my teacher might hit on me?” I ask, finding it a rather odd thing for him to say.
He nods. “He is renowned for it, and since you’re legal…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Just keep your wits about you, is all I’m saying.”
Despite my bewilderment, I nod. “I will do. Is there anything else you need, sir?” I ask.
His nostrils flare at the question, and his eyes almost seem to burn into me. “No, Eva. Rest and get better. I’ll see you in class.” He strides out of the room, back straighter than an ironing board.
I let out a heavy breath once the door shuts, finding it hard to compose myself around such a devastatingly handsome man.
Get a grip, Eva.
The man is my professor.
Nothing will ever happen between us, no matter how much I want it to.
7
OAK
Istand in the doorway into my classroom, watching Eva through the small window.
It has been nine days since she arrived at the academy, but this is the first lesson she has attended. Among other subjects, I teach leadership strategy, which she won’t be too interested in, but none of the subjects that we cover here will interest her.
