Chapter 6 #2
Silas spends the entire class turning around to stare at me. Full-on swivel. Shoulders turned, chin propped on his hand like this was some kind of rom-com instead of Chemistry. I’ve lost count of how many times Ms. Braun has told him to turn around.
“St. John, eyes forward, please.”
She isn’t mad. Just exasperated. Like she’s done this dance with him a hundred times before. At one point, she catches his gaze lingering on me again and sighs, “Mr. St. John, if I have to separate you like you’re in third grade, I will.”
The class snickers. I sink lower in my seat, cheeks burning.
Later, when she passes our table, she gives me a sympathetic smile like, Sorry about him.
Thankfully, Trent, my lab partner, was basically the human version of a deep breath.
Calm, friendly, and easy on the eyes in a non-threatening kind of way.
He has warm brown eyes and a quiet way of speaking, like he is trying not to wake up the universe.
His hair is dark and a little wavy, curling at the ends like he might’ve slept on it wet and just rolled with it.
“So,” he says casually while we measure out drops of some bright blue chemical, “ You and that guy. What’s the story?”
“There isn’t one,” I said immediately.
He chuckles. “Okay.”
I snort. “I’m hoping he chokes on his own charm.”
Trent grins. “Now that’s chemistry.”
He goes back to writing out the data like nothing happened, and I find myself relaxing a little. Between his easy presence and Ms. Braun’s occasional side-eyes at Silas, it was… manageable.
“So he really spent all of Chemistry just staring at you?” Morella asks around a mouthful of salad. It’s Caesar with chicken, and judging by the pleased look on her face, it’s delicious.
I finish chewing, then nod. “Yup. He even got yelled at multiple times.”
Morella snorts. “I don’t get it. Like, yeah, he flirts with everyone, guys included but he’s never been this adamant about someone.”
I just shrug, because what do you even say to that?
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you didn’t fall all over him on day one,” she says, pointing her fork at me.
I roll my eyes. “He’s good looking and all, but for one, he’s a dick and two, I didn’t even want friends right away. Why would I want a boyfriend or a hookup?”
Morella doesn’t flinch. Just keeps chewing like I didn’t say something most people would fake-gasp at.
“He is definitely not good looking,” she says with a dramatic gag face.
I laugh. “That’s because he’s your brother’s friend.”
Shaking her head, she flicks a piece of lettuce at me with her fork. “Whatever you say, girlie.”
Study Hall is my last class of the day, and I catch myself begging a higher power that I don’t share it with anyone… except Morella.
Stopping at the open door, I take a deep breath and step inside to see my fate.
Instantly, I spot Morella sitting at a large rectangular table on the far side of the room.
She sees me and waves me over. As I come around to the table, I glance at it questioningly.
“What’s with the table?” I ask, pulling out a chair and sinking into it.
“So, in Study Hall we sit in groups so we can work together if we need to,” she explains. “It’s not assigned seats but…” Her words trail off, and I notice her posture shift as her gaze moves past me.
A chair scrapes and someone plops down beside me, and another seat is yanked out on my other side.
I look right and there’s Silas, grinning like this is the best part of his entire day. “Well, hello Princess,” he says.
My mouth falls open slightly as I turn left to find Rafe already glaring at me, as if he wasn’t the one who sat down next to me. Across the table, Archer drops into the seat next to Morella without a word. He looks completely unbothered. Lucky him.
My eyes flick to Morella, who gives me a wide-eyed shrug and mouths, sorry.
I plant my elbows on the table, drop my forehead to my hands, and groan. There’s a shift of movement behind me, then a warm breath grazes the side of my cheek, brushing the hair that’s fallen forward.
“What’s got you so bothered? Rough first day?”
It’s Silas, deep in my personal space. I turn my head slightly and realize we’re nose to nose. Cinnamon. He uses cinnamon toothpaste.
I glance over my shoulder to confirm what I already know, his arm is slung across the back of my chair, his chest brushing against my shoulder. Looking down, I realize he’s practically boxed me in with his body.
I quickly pull back and bump straight into something solid. Someone solid. I spin quickly, trying to mumble out a “sorry,” but it’s already too late.
He pushes me forward with a sharp motion of his arm, right into Silas’s chest and locks eyes with me. “Don’t ever bump into me again. Got it?”
I swallow and nod without thinking. That’s when I hear Silas, softly laughing in my ear. I can’t take this. I whip forward and fix my eyes on Archer. “Switch seats with me,” I blurt.
I mean to ask, but the words tumble out like a command. Slowly, Archer lifts his gaze from his phone until our eyes meet. His brows dip, lip curling slightly like I just asked him to donate a kidney.
I wait but nothing happens. He drops his gaze again and continues whatever he’s doing like I no longer exist.
Lord help me.