Clear Lake Academy holds the worst of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background that led them there and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting the tenth building on fire, which just...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I walked down the hallway, studded heels the only sound in the wide, clustered hallways as I made my way towards my first class. People loitered on both sides, pushed against lockers, their curious stares drilling into my head as if they could pick my brain apart. I only walked past, letting them wonder but giving no acknowledgment.
If no one was going to be decent then they didn't deserve my decency.
I opened the door of my assigned classroom, barely halting at the various head whipping to catch my entrance. I only shot a forced smile to the beckoning teacher who welcomed me with a tentative expression usually reserved for new students and potential disasters. I offered my name, and let him give me a quick introduction before he gestured to a seat near the back.
Murmurs and fuelled whispers followed me, spreading like waves across the students; fast and growing in intensity despite the teacher's insistence at silence. The first few minutes of the class went ticked on, each second feeling like a year as the class barely settled down. The room settled only in the loosest sense of the word-everyone was pretending to pay attention while very clearly trying to sneak glances at me whenever they thought I wasn't looking.
I tapped my pen against the desk, quietly, rhythmically, trying to ground myself. New school, new people, same circus.And just when it finally seemed like my frustration was going to get the best of me, a solid voice rose above all others.
"Try not to kill someone." My head snapped toward the voice just as the chair beside me scraped back and a dark-haired boy dropped into it. His voice was husky, threaded with a low rasp that grated instantly on my nerves.
I'll kill you in a minute.
My patience grew thinner with every passing second. All I wanted was to get up, go back to my room, and lie in bed-far, far away from all the staring eyes.
I was not some rose in a glass box for people to ogle.
"Woah," he said, hands lifting in mock surrender as I stared heatedly at hime. "Don't kill me just yet."
"I will if you don't go away," I snapped before I could stop myself.
"Too bad." He smirked, settling in like he owned the seat. He leaned back, hips shifting forward, arms stretching comfortably across the desk as if he planned to stay for a long, long time.
My phone pinged, the wood shaking with the buzz as the sound broke my attention from the boy. The class seemed to freeze for a moment -breaking away the thesis of microbiology and to the square metal on my desk. Before I could answer it, the teacher appeared with surprising speed, his hand held out.
I lifted my eyebrows in a clear What? but he simply held his hand out, eyes flicking toward my phone lying face-down on the table. I sighed dramatically and placed it in his waiting palm. He didn't say a word as he marched back to his desk, set the phone down like contraband, and continued lecturing.
