Dedicated to Monica for encouraging me to keep going - and for being a writing role model.
CHAPTER THREE: Tension Crackled Between Us
The next day, at 12.15 on the dot, I approached the quiet study room in the library, my belly a knot of nerves and dread. My first mentoring session had finally arrived and I really didn’t want to do it. The idea of spending a full hour, alone, with Sonny of all people…Well, I felt like I was about to jump into a piranha tank, and that it would take some sort of miracle to emerge with all of my body parts intact.
My only hope was that he would bunk, or at least arrive so late that I wouldn’t have to say more than a few words to him. Please, please, please…
Pausing before the door, I took a breath, gritted my teeth, and pushed it open…to sadly find Sonny there and waiting.
Slouched on a chair, he sat with his legs spread ridiculously wide and his hands resting on his thighs. The posture drew attention to his groin in a typical, bloke I’m giving myself an airing gesture. It was like he’d spent the last few minutes, in private, engineering the best pose to look dominant. His aura screamed: This room’s my territory. I’m in control.
Resisting the urge to assess the size of his groin (as he clearly wanted), I entered – leaving the door open behind me. Should I feel the need to run for it, I wanted my getaway route to be clear of obstacles.
“You’re punctual, at least, Miss Smith,” he greeted me seriously, adopting the patronising tone of a teacher. “So I don’t have to punish you for lateness.”
And that was the problem with Sonny. He really seemed capable of anything. How did I know what was an empty threat and what was a promise? I genuinely had no idea what he would do – and that made him dangerous.
Wound too tight to even respond with a grimace, I moved over to the opposite side of the desk. His green eyes tracked my every movement as I swung my rucksack off my shoulder. I forced myself to speak. “So where do you want to start?” I asked.
“How about with you coming round here to sit next to me.” He raised an eyebrow as if to be flirtatious, yet his voice was hard. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to do – but they all need you to be nice and close.”
“I meant with your school work,” I informed him, echoing his hard tone and amplifying it.
His eyebrow dropped. “What about my school work?”
I spelt it out: “What subject do you want to start with?”
“You tell me, boffin, since you obviously know everything,” he said, his voice so cold now that icicles were practically crystallising on his breath.
Fine, if he wanted to do it the hard way…
I reached into my bag and unfolded the piece of paper that I’d been given by Harris. It listed all of the work that Sonny had still not completed. “By the looks of this,” I decided, “I think we’ll start with History.”
It was like I’d foolishly waved a red flag before an irritated bull. Sonny lunged towards me, stretching across the desk to try and snatch the page from my hands. I barely jerked away in time, my eyes widening at the furious expression on his face.
Thwarted but not beaten, Sonny placed one hand on the desk and leapt over the barrier. In the time that it took for me to give an alarmed blink, he ripped the paper from my fingers. “You’ve been given information on me?” he snarled.
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Fierce Electricity [COMPLETED]
Teen FictionWhen Evie Smith is told that she’ll be mentoring Sonny Flynn, she’s certain that she’s just been forced to commit social suicide. Sonny is not a ‘bad boy’; he’s a vile boy – the person in her school most likely to end up in prison or dead by the tim...