Sins of Aiden

12

CHAPTER 12

LUCAS BROWN

Aiden slumps down the over-painted pastel chair. The old wood groans and he simply makes himself comfortable with a blank expression on his face.

Obviously. That chair has been his closest companion since the semester started. And it's only been nearly two weeks.

He doesn't acknowledge the stern, sharp glare from across the dark wooden desk. He doesn't feel anything from the severe turmoil seeping from Mrs. Robert's skin, that rolls against the walls like red spitting fire. He just can't seem to care less and his eyes-covered sunglasses simply find their way to the closest window—where sunlight pours in the overgrowing tension.

Though his appearance might come off as unbothered—unreadable from the crowd's point of view—his iron grip around the armchair kisses the inaccurate picture away in a cold splash of dread. His lilac cherry knuckles contort white through his acute climbing temper and I solely wonder how long we have until Aiden's flammable violence lifts the roof.

I, however, manage my prominent beaming white smile, making sure it lights up enough to caress the corners of Mrs. Robert's smoke-clothed fury.

"Take off your sunglasses, Aiden," Mrs. Robert snaps through closed teeth. Her vibrant blue eyes flash hot white when she stares at Aiden.

My spreading lips twitch at the corners. She ignores me completely.

Aiden, who has had his gaze locked on the window, veers his head slowly around. His jaw clenches to granite as he lifts his sunglasses on to of his head, pushing back a bundle of long dark waves.

"You brought me here for this shit?" he grumbles, mostly under his breath but makes sure that both of us hear his peeved tone.

Piercing blue eyes flicker with blinding disturbance to both of us.

Mrs. Robert, our principal of Eastwood High School, sits straight like a wall behind her massive gleaming desk—no doubt will be using it like a shield in the five upcoming minutes. Her blonde glowing hair is cast away from her face, each hair strand lies precisely straight, her tight bun pinned at the back of her head. Brilliant, observant, sharp features notify her quick and pointed tongue. Her midnight-strong eyebrows are drawn in a straight furious line, soot-black lashes trembling.

She's not pleased with us. At all.

Her azure blazer-clothed elbows pin the desk beneath and her gleaming gold watch winks barbs at us. No wrinkles on her smooth flawless skin, not a line on her colorful ridiculous wealthy suit jackets. I would dare to say she's extraordinarily gorgeous for her age and definitely would give it a shot if it weren't for her nasty poison character that always, always seems to pin random shit on us.

That and the fact that she's our principal might be a deal breaker.

Meh.

"Language, Aiden," Mrs. Robert utters. Her stormy icy eyes flicker between us, judging us, and letting the awkward silence engulfs the office.

Aiden grumbles profanities under his breath, completely going against Mrs. Robert's warning. He let his gaze fall outside again.

This is not the first time we have been together inside this office. I can't count on my two very hands how many times the three of us have battled with this bullshit since the very start of our first day of high school. Mrs. Robert keeps coming back for more like a hell's cat. Though she might have her reasons doesn't mean either of us likes it.