It was worse because, well - everyone was staring at me.
"Nobody's staring at you," Brianna whispered to me in English Lit. I gave her a solemn look.
"They are," I said, mostly to myself. To make things worse, I couldn't find Ry anywhere in the building. It wasn't until my second to last class that I ran into him on the way to my room. I'd forgotten my World History textbook.
"Ry?" My eyes followed messy brown hair. He turned to look at me and smiled politely.
"What's up, Cassandra Dean?" He sounded so normal, so nonchalant. I almost questioned whether last night actually happened.
Almost.
"What happened to you last night?" I eyed him warily. "You left me to deal with Reid and company. Alone." I tried not to sound as angry as I felt. Be calm, I told myself. Torture later.
"Huh?" The look on his face was one of pure confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about," I sounded clipped as I leaned in closer to him, lowering my voice. "The auditorium-"
"Mister Winstead!" An authoritative voice boomed from our right and we separated instantly. It was Provost Higgins. "Could we keep it moving, please? No drifting in the hallway and no boys allowed in girls' rooms!"
Ry gave me that 'we'll talk about it later' look. I nodded him a mental message - you bet your ass we are! - and left for World History. I saw a certain glint of gold to my right across the hallway and -surprise, surprise- found Reid, a girl under each arm, looking smug. Almost calculated. And he shook his head at me, as if witnessing Provost Higgins' outburst. I pursed my lips and walked on, refusing to feed into his amusement.
My last class was with Mr. Garner - and Reid, of course - in what was the hardest to bear now that everyone knew my deep, dark √oh, so forbidden secret.
Criminal Law. Ah, the irony. Why I was even put in such an advanced class was beyond me.
I had no interest in law, despite the interest it had in me.
And I really, really had no interest in anyone's questioning gazes. It was only now that I realized Lily was in this class, as was Tyler and another of Reid's - or Caleb's, rather? - minions. He had slightly longer hair and a very lean build, but I never caught his name the night before.
And like the day before, I sat in the back.
"Yes, Mister Garwin?" I heard Mr. Garner's voice echo toward my section of the lecture hall and I instantly looked over at Reid. It was just as I'd suspected. Reid was Mister Garwin.
"Out of curiosity," Reid's voice sounded very nonchalant. "Under what circumstances would the law arrest an underage runaway?"
"Hm," Mr. Garner's look was deep in thought and I felt eyes turn on me, but I was staring at Reid with hatred. "Well I suppose there are lots of reasons, although under normal circumstances they'd be returned to their parent or guardian-"
"Warrant," I spoke loudly, my eyes never leaving Reid's form. His head turned up to me and I saw something in his eyes that I'd seen last night. Mischief. "If there's already a juvenile warrant out for an underage runaway's breach of probation-"
"Good point, Miss Dean," Mr. Garner replied, not even noticing the grit of my teeth or the daggers I was shooting at Reid. Or the way Reid's eyes danced with delight.
"Warrant for what, exactly?" Reid's voice was so nonchalant that it made me want to wring his pretty neck.
"None of your damned business!"
I wasn't the only one shocked at the tone of my voice. The whole class was staring now, giggling at the odd exchange between Reid and I.
"Settle down, you two," Mr. Garner's voice commanded. The class was still snickering. Reid wasn't paying Mr. Garner any mind, and I wasn't either. His lips turned upward deviously and I felt my sweaty palms tighten. He was trying to prove his place in the school. The Bad Boy. The Troubled Soul. And perhaps he found me somewhat threatening to that banal existence of his.
"Sorry, Mr. Garner," I perked up. I hardly recognized the saccharine sweetness of my voice. "I'd be happy to give Mister Garwin■ - I emphasized his name with something like forced amicability- ⌠examples." My eyes found Reid's - and then Tyler's. Reid crossed his arms and looked smug. Tyler was smiling into his fist.
I was gripping the underside of my desk, indulging in a little fantasy of backhanding Reid into a wall.
"Please do," Mr. Garner encouraged. "Interact."
"Well," I dragged on before slowly, lazily meeting Reid's gaze. He licked his lips and feigned seriousness. "There's battery, of course. And if substance is involved - well, it changes everything. That's breach of probation, and repeat offenders rarely ever get off with a warning." Consider this yours, asshole.
"Kids these days should know better," Reid said with an air of mockery and false concern.
"Yeah, never get caught!" Someone shouted, and the class broke into low giggles.
"Maybe some criminals can't change," I turned my body toward Reid, who was eyeing me with interest. "Maybe they're just too bad." I couldn't help the hint of sarcasm in my tone. I was never truly bad - I was just always running from bad people.
The bell rang and I snapped out of my trance. Had I really just called Reid out in the middle of a lecture?
Hell yes, I did.
I stepped out into the hallway to find Tyler standing next to the handsome boy whose name I never got. Tyler winked at me this time and smiled.
"I told you she'd call Reid out in class," Tyler spoke to the boy next to him - but he was looking at me with amusement. "Pay up, Pogue."
"That, she did." Pogue gave me a wavering glance and slammed a few twenties into Tyler's fist.
"Sorry," I shrugged, sensing Pogue's resentment. Tyler chuckled.
"I suppose that for a jailbird, it was an admirable thing to do," a voice behind me spoke in my ear - Reid. "Defending your honor and all that."
"I suppose that you wouldn't know about anything admirable," I bit back scathingly. "Being a trust-fund baby and all that."
I felt his hand mold itself to the small of my back and I instantly moved away from it. I turned to face him.
"Come, take a walk with me," I held out my hand and forced a smiled - showing him innocent dimples and a hopefully innocent exterior. "Let's play."
His eyes feigned - always feigning, always false - acquiescence and his hand reached for mine. I wasn't expecting it to be warm or even nice - but it was. It felt strange, almost conflicting. A kind, protective hand where he was rude and malicious for his own intents and purposes. Nonetheless, I smiled and pulled him - wanting so badly to drag him with agitated force - to a quiet spot in the hallway by the stairs.
When I saw that no one was around us I grabbed his arm with both my hands and pushed him hard against the wall. I didn't linger in front of him but then I did, pushing him hard again in frustration. It had been so long since I put my hands on anyone in this manner and it felt so good. I gritted my teeth in anger while his eyes laughed at me. He looked more focused on my features - gazing down at my form against his, my face only inches from his own. Stupid, typical boy.
"You better explain what the hell that was all about," I managed to breathe out hoarsely as adrenaline pumped through my veins. My body trembled from the excess of it.
"It's a little hard to concentrate on what you're saying," his voice was amused, and he looked down at my pressing against his surprisingly hard body. I drew away from our contact. "I wasn't complaining, Miss Dean."
"Shut up," I threw at him. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Reid. I never did anything to you."
And you're crazy if you think I won't put a stop to your bullying before it starts, dickhead.
"Your point being?" He looked at me with bored eyes.
"Just morbidly curious to your motives," I bit back sarcastically. His eyes were so intense I could hardly stand it. "Humor me."
"I'm not trying to piss you off," he spoke convincingly and I looked on disbelievingly. "It's one thing to sport, and another thing to spot the jailbird with the class president" - Ry, I realized - "trying to sneak off together. It was just too good to pass up. Sorry, Dean, but you were a victim of your own doing. And it was fun while it lasted." I saw the hint of male smugness play across his face. So this was about Ry. He had a personal vendetta against Ry and I got caught in the middle.
"Whatever," I brushed him off as I turned to leave. "Cut the shit now, before someone gets hurt. And by someone, I mean you."
I walked away knowing he'd have the last word.
"Are all juvenile delinquents as pretty as you, Dean?" His voice was teasing but hid its intensity. He had a way of making me feel victimized, even though I vowed to never be a victim again. I would have preferred death.
But still.
Reid was the cat, and I was the mouse under his paw. And I couldn't shake him off.
"Take a picture, it lasts longer." Lame, but I wasn't thinking of witty responses just then. He didn't put his hands on me again but then again, he didn't need to. The proximity of having him so close was torturous. 'Fight or flight' was screaming at me to do something, anything - hit or run. Hit or run.
Run? I scoffed. As if.
Just when I thought I was moving fast enough to leave him behind, I felt him whip around me and face me with hands up in resignation. His eyes were still the same old eyes - false, feigning - but his smirk was faltering.
"A thousand apologies, Dean," he spoke. "For being..."
"A prick."
"Right." I eyed him warily and then nodded once. His head tilted to one side, studying my next move like it was a chess game. I showed him nothing.
"So," I dragged. "What do you want?"
"A truce," he shrugged. "Nothing more, nothing less. Start over."
"Fine, whatever," I sighed. "May I pass, now?"
"Absolutely," he replied with a dramatic gesture - a bow and wave forward. "After you."
I looked behind me to find him standing there with his hands halfway in his pockets and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Watching me leave. Enjoying the view, asshole?
"This isn't over, Dean," I heard him mutter behind me, in a muted voice.
I didn't both turning around again.