DON'T FORGET ⸺ TOM BENNET

ONE - THE YELLOW CANARY

"Are you going to stand there like a coward or make a bet Syles?"

She glanced up at the blond-haired boy, a smirk plastered on his face, a caged canary in hand. The boy beside him, Robbie Tallis, held a small notebook the size of his palm, a pencil matched in measure.

Her eyes lingered back on the boy holding the birdcage. He hadn't looked away from her once since entering the courtyard. His blue eyes lingered on her face. She seemed unsure. Whispers of the boy had circulated the school, and her ears had heard stories of every kind. But the one that always stuck, he was trouble personified.

Swallowing under his gaze, she flattened the front of her skirt, which was perfectly straight already, more so covering to wipe the sweat from her palms.

Tom Bennett.

He was Tom Bennett, father a pacifist, sister a singer, and he, better known as a nuisance and the university's most recent addition to the janitorial facilities staff.

The rumor circulating was that he was commissioned here in deal to avoid prison.

She rarely believed rumors. Knew how dangerous it could be. How damaging and harsh words could be. Like knives dipped in salt, slicing through skin and wounding permanently, no relief for the pain. She knew, and she ignored every single one about this boy before her in hopes he could prove her wrong if ever given the chance.

Clearing her throat, she looked to Robbie, relieving herself from the intensity of Tom's stare. "Regarding?"

"The canary," Tom answered.

Robbie glanced a look at Tom's profile, a nervous glint in his eye.

"When she'll hatch. We're taking bets all around the school. Rumor has it you're rather skilled in such a task."

There was that word again. Rumor. She hated it.

A heavy exhale left her mouth.

"I'm not sure where you've heard such a thing, but I'm not very interested in betting on a bird and when it'll hatch." Are you to inherit all the coin and con the people? She wanted to ask but didn't.

His scoff was challenging, his chest puffing rather than deflating at the underlying accusation. He could hear it in her voice.

"Quite the opposite. Winner closest will take the coin. Spend as they please. Though, I'm sure you don't need it. Father being a big name in the university system and all."

Her brows furrowed at the mention of her father. How did he know her?

The smirk on his face said it all. He was mocking her. Hoping to get a rise out of her. It was all it ever seemed to be. People pursued to get a rise out of her. To see the supposed golden girl falter from her perfect image. To crumble under the pressure. She was nothing more than a tower that people waited to see topple–all its grandness fall to ashes and dust.

It didn't matter much where the information had come from, just how he would use it.

"Gemma."

The three of them turned to the call of her name.

A man of tall build and a serious scowl glaring toward them stood a few feet away.

"Father?" She said under her breath before following his hollowing, piercing gaze back to the boy who now stood behind her.

Gemma turned to Tom, seeing his gaze focused on her father, his scowl matching Mr. Syles'.

She made quick, pulling the man's gaze from the boy with the canary as she approached him. His eyes slowly flickered over to her.

"What are you doing here?"

His gaze had softened slightly at her voice.

"I had a meeting with the Dean. Was walking back to my car when I saw you. Wanted to take you to lunch if you were free."

She nodded, walking away with her father, glancing a quick look back at the boy with the canary. He watched her, his brows furrowed before he glanced down at the bird and began to turn away.

He was trouble.