The Clearing: Origins

Chapter 8

The noise in the lab was deafening due to the chattering students. A horrified Victor sat at his chemistry workstation reading the practical. According to the instructions, his group would conduct and document a combustion reaction. They expected him to use methane gas! 

"This is absolute rubbish," he muttered.

The only logical explanation Victor could think of was the school decided to burn down the old building and put up a new one. To avoid any misconceptions about how to pay for it, the school board had devised a nefarious plan involving him as the student who "accidentally" blew up the old facility. That way, they could sue him for the cost of a new one.

To worsen matters, one of his current partners had outright refused to work with him. Destiny Green stepped back from the scarred table, a hand covering her braids as if protecting them. "Na-uh, Vic. It cost me a hundred dollars to get these box braids. I can't have you burning them off." Destiny showed him her temple. "See? My edges just started growing back from the last time you screwed up."

Victor rolled his eyes. "What a load of cack!"

"A what?"

"Never mind."

Destiny shrugged, then placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I like you, Vic, but I can't get edges and eyebrows to grow back quickly. Sorry, but I'm rotating out of this sh─" She paused at his raised eyebrow. "This clusterf─" Victor's brow furrowed. Destiny sighed. "This nightmare." She picked up her backpack and sauntered over to the table with her new lab partners.

Victor sat on his stool dejected, glaring at the equipment for the experiment with increasing dread. No one in their right mind wanted him as a partner with his reputation. He might as well stumble through it alone unless the teacher forced someone to work with him. His other partner, Jake Hacker, had schmoozed himself into Lisa McKenzie's giggling group of girls. Victor shook his head. Lisa could do so much better.

Well, he'd only blow himself up this time. At least he'd get some rest.

He almost jumped when a hand tapped his shoulder. A feminine voice asked, "Victor, mind if we work with you? Our partner transferred out."

Victor wanted to grasp the unknown hand and bring it to his lips. "Bless you, love, for not letting me die alone." With a chuckle, he turned to face his latest victims.

She was tall, pleasing to the eye, with thick fair hair cut into layers by an expert hand and perfect makeup. The girl wore a simple sweater dress and high-heeled boots that screamed money. But what mattered most—she was alive and breathing.

Maddox King stood next to her, glaring at him.

"Do you always greet your new lab partners with such enthusiasm?" she asked, brown eyes dancing with humor.

"No offense," he said. "But if you were eight feet tall with a beard and antennas, I'd have greeted you the same." The girl looked familiar, but Victor couldn't place her. He stood and gave her a courtly bow, causing the girl to simper. "You know my name. And yours...?"

"Gabriella Francesca Saint, but everyone calls me Gabby. My cousin Megan dances at your studio." The girl flicked her hair and posed for a brief second. "You and I talked for a bit at the summer showcase."

Her words jogged his memory. He remembered her now—Gabby, the Instagram influencer. She'd tried to waylay him several times for a chat and even tried to take pictures for her account as he bolted off stage for costume changes—during the show. Security had to escort her back to her seat several times. 

"Ah yes! I remember you now, love."

"Wonderful! You know Maddox, right?" Gabby gave a small giggle and turned to her companion. "Maddox, this is—"