Miss Knockers looks unimpressed with my introduction. “Class, does anyone have any questions for Darcie?”
I refrain from eyeballing the fuck out of her and instead look at the faces of my uninterested peers. A group of guys catches my eye, one in particular, and that’s because he seems to be one of the only students remotely interested in what I have to say.
He is the quarterback, judging from the blue-and-yellow varsity jacket he wears over his uniform, and he looks how you’d expect every star athlete to look—blond and muscled with a jawline that could cut glass. His eyes are an icy blue.
The crowd he sits with looks like your typical meatheads, but this guy appears different. He watches me closely, and I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Miss, didn’t a pupil get expelled for setting the gym on fire at Declan Valley?” asks a girl in a sickly sweet voice, instantly breaking the weird stare-off with the quarterback.
My attention shifts to her, and she grins smugly as she leans over her desk to whisper something into the quarterback’s ear. She may as well cock her leg and mark her claim here, now. But I have no interest in her trophy.
He chuckles, looking directly at me, hinting whatever the girl said was about me.
“You’re right, Giselle. I read it online,” says a red-haired guy with freckles and a toothy smile. He pushes his silver-rimmed glasses up his slender nose. “Was it you, new girl, ’cause my pants are on fire?”
Seems he’s the class clown.
The class erupts into laughter while I bunch my fists behind my back. A paper plane soars past my head, hitting the blackboard behind me.
“Yeah, new girl. I bet it was you.” Folding her arms arrogantly across her chest, Giselle snickers, challenging me to take the bait. “Do we have to hide our lighters in case you’ll set our gym on fire? What do you think, Carson? Do you think she’s going to be trouble?”
The quarterback has a name—Carson.
“All right, Giselle, that’s enough,” Miss Knox snaps, deciding now is the time she should act the role of concerned teacher.
But I know what this is. If I don’t bite back, if I surrender, they will see it as weakness.
Staring into Giselle’s eyes, I reply blankly, “If anything were on fire, it would be your pussy from fucking the entire football team.”
The boys around Carson fall into silence because perhaps I’ve hit the nail on the head. Carson shifts in his seat uncomfortably, clearly ruffled that his friends might be sticking their fingers in his honey pot.
Giselle’s eyes narrow into slits, and I know I’ve just made an enemy.
“I don’t know why you’d think I care. Friends are only good for long treks in the snow. Just ask Alfred Packer.”
His comment from last night suddenly crosses my mind, and a grin spreads from cheek to cheek, merely infuriating Giselle further.
“You’ve made quite an impression for your first day, Darcie. Back to your seat.”
I don’t say anything and simply stroll back to my desk, unable to wipe my mischievous smile away. Before I sit, however, I meet his eyes. And all I see is nothing.
He doesn’t shy away from looking at me, but I can’t tell if he’s curious or bored. And I like that. I like that he keeps me guessing.
I take a seat, refusing to acknowledge my classmates, who now look at me with something other than boredom reflected in their eyes.
“Turn over your pop quizzes.”
The class groans but does what they’re told.
This quiz may as well be written in Swahili because being a good student hasn’t been a priority lately. But I try my best, chewing the end of my pen as I read over the questions.
Five minutes in, I hear Miss Knockers speak, but unlike when she spoke to me, this time, she seems like she’s mid-orgasm. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
“Can I please have a hall pass? I need to use the restroom.”
And he has a name. Well, a surname, at least.
It takes all my willpower not to turn around. So instead, I look at Miss Knockers and how she’s openly eye fucking Blackwood.
“You can go after you’re finished with the quiz.”
“I am finished,” he counters coolly.
Three words filled with so much arrogance, but his arrogance isn’t overbearing. It’s subtle, where one doesn’t know if he’s being sarcastic or not.
Miss Knockers purses her lips but eventually gives in as she writes out the hall pass for Blackwood. The smooth slide of the chair across the floor and his unhurried footsteps announce he’s getting closer.
I quickly focus on my quiz, but when he passes my desk, I peer up at him from under my lashes. I’m convinced this place is set to winter all year round ’cause all it’s done is rain since I arrived, but a beam of sunshine breaks through the darkness, igniting Blackwood in a way that highlights how his white shirt clings to his broad back.
He’s tall. I’d say six-four.
“Here you go, Mr. Blackwood,” Miss Knox purrs, leaning over her desk to hand him the hall pass.
He slides it out of her hand nonchalantly. Even his subtle movements display confidence and control. “Thank you, miss.”
There is so much promise to the word miss. I wonder how many Miss Knoxes he has on speed dial.
He makes his way to the door, but when he turns around, that sliver of sunlight catches the gold in his eyes, making them appear liquid amber. He walks out the door while I take a muted deep breath. My urge to follow him is almost uncontrollable.
I attempt to focus on the quiz, but I can’t. I want to know where he’s going, as the bathroom trip was clearly an excuse. So I raise my hand.
Miss Knox looks at me, an annoyed sigh slipping past her lips. “What is it, Darcie?”
I can’t help but compare her response to the way she addressed Blackwood. So I decide to use his line and dare her to refuse me.
“Can I also have a hall pass? I need to use the bathroom too.”
She replies just how I knew she would. “You can go after you’re finished with the quiz.”
It’s multiple choice, so I quickly color in the dots in no particular order. It may as well be color by numbers. But I knew I’d fuck this quiz up, so it doesn’t matter.
“I’m finished.”
I don’t give her time to refuse me and stand, making my way to her desk. I extend my palm with a smile. She makes clear she wishes I never transferred and slaps the hall pass into my hand.
“Thank you,” I say sweetly.
She gestures for me to leave with a wave of her hand.
Once out in the empty corridor, I let out an elated giggle because that was fun.
Looking from left to right, I wonder which way Blackwood would have gone. I don’t know how I know he’s up to something. Maybe it’s just a gut feeling. Or maybe I’m connected to him in some way, and I just have to know.
I think he’s a thrill seeker like me, and I want to come along for the ride.
Muting my footsteps, I hear the unmissable sound of someone trying to break into a locker, and when I turn the corner, I see Blackwood with a brown paper bag in hand.
I cross my arms and shake my head slowly.
“What’s that?” I ask, stopping a few feet away.
He doesn’t even appear concerned he’s been caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t.