How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds

Chapter 12: Psychology

The bomb Kimberly dropped hung like a massive thundercloud over me all through Sunday and well into Monday morning. For three years, all the frustration and resentment I had felt for my father's tragic death, I had directed towards Morgan; it had been easier that way. But I now found myself forced to face the ugly truth: that I had not the slightest clue who the culprit was.

First period Monday was Psychology with Mr. Evans.

I shot a look of disdain at the boy sitting across me, his much loathed but unfortunately, familiar emerald eyes staring right back. Two periods. That was how long we were supposed to sit in class discussing our projects with our partners, which in my case was the douchebag sitting across from me.

We had been waiting in silence for nearly a half hour by now.

"Charley-" Adrian started, sounding almost apologetic.

"Don't even bother." A look of annoyance flickered across his face at my words.

I knew I ought to start working but it wasn't just the personal grudge I held against my partner which stood in the way. Something was... odd. The hairs on the back of my neck had risen and I had been feeling uneasy ever since I had walked into the classroom this morning.

I had the feeling I was being watched.

It didn't make sense; all the other kids were immersed in their work. Swivelling around, my gaze suddenly landed on Mr. Evans who stood at the front of the classroom, his hands chucked into his pockets. His face was expressionless, his gaze intense. My heart skipped a beat. His beady brown eyes were unmoving and he was staring at me.

I knew he had been from the moment I had walked into class.

The second he caught me looking, he averted his gaze, pretending to have been watching the clock instead.

Feeling awkward, I turned my gaze back to Adrian.

"Pretend you're talking to me."

He only stared back at me in bewilderment; clearly, the guy only knew how to blurt nonsense when it was not needed. Through my peripheral vision, I noticed Evans glance up from his watch at me, almost as if to check that my attention had strayed away from him. Then, leaning back against his table, he continued to openly gawk at me. I could almost swear his unwelcome gaze flickered over my face and then down my body, as if he was sizing me up.

The man looked about forty. This was beyond creepy.

Adrian was still staring at me, his forest green eyes now wide. He looked utterly confused. Spotting the frown on my face, his gaze flickered around the classroom, his gaze halting when he too spotted the source of my discomfort. Something flickered across his face, right before he frowned.

His gaze returned to me, "Charley, did something happen between you two?" he murmured, his eyes as wide as saucers now.

I chuckled uncomfortably and muttered under my breath, "Are you kidding me, Adrian? I barely know his name."

I took hold of myself then, inhaling deeply. Stop being a chicken, Charley.

"Whatever. We're being paranoid. He's probably just looking over to make sure we're working..." I trailed off, unable to buy my own words.

Adrian's frown deepened and he leaned forward in his chair, his warm breath against my ear as he muttered in a low tone, "He hasn't glanced at me once in the last five minutes, Charley. Stop bullshitting."

I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking to Evans once more and a pang of uneasiness hit me the moment it did.

He was staring alright. But that wasn't it. He was smiling to himself.

Suddenly turning in his seat, Adrian stared at the teacher. No. I felt a bit stunned as I realized Adrian was actually shooting him a look. It was the look that had made kids go out of their way to avoid crossing paths with him anywhere. It was the look that made you feel like a deer caught in head lights.

Evans seemed to be no exception for- I noticed in astonishment- he quickly averted his gaze, crossing over to a group of kids and peering into their work in sudden interest.

I was still staring at Adrian, my jaw hanging slighter ajar when his forest green gaze returned to me, his face devoid of expression.

"Maybe you should file a complaint," Adrian told me suddenly.

I gawked at him, my mouth agape. Was he actually trying to be helpful right now? I chuckled, "Nice to see you trying to take the diplomatic solution for once, Adrian. How ironic."

A simply 'sorry' wasn't going to justify his irritable behaviour; I hadn't forgiven him and I wasn't going to give him the impression that I had.

His frown deepened, "I mean it, Charley. If he crosses the line, you should tell someone."

I burst out laughing, to which he glared at me in return, appearing irritated. Jesus, his mood swings were getting more unpredictable by the minute.

"What do you exactly mean by crossing the line, Adrian?" I questioned sarcastically, "Do you mean nearly beating a kid to death? Or slut-shaming a girl because she tried to help you? Oh, do enlighten me. I mean, how could I know when apparently, all I want to do is get into everybody's pants?"

Adrian flinched, "Charley-"

A booming voice from the front of the classroom cut him off, "Ms. Green, I want you to stay back after class. There's some things I need to talk with you."

It was Evans.

A lump suddenly formed in my throat. Oh no. As if on cue, the bell rang, the shrill sound like death's knell to my ears. Kids rose from their seats, instantly filing out of the classroom. I froze, my eyes widening in horror as I glanced at Adrian. He stared at me blankly and if he felt anything, he didn't show it. Crap.

"Adrian-" I began desperately but to my horror, he stood, turning deaf ears on me and completely ignored the pleading look I cast his way as he trudged out of the classroom, not so much as bothering to glance back.

So much for the douchebag's concern. I mentally directed a series of f-bombs in his direction.

"Ms. Green..." Evans was standing less that a meter away, "No. Can I call you Charley?"

"I'd prefer Ms. Green," I muttered, chuckling awkwardly.

He blinked twice, as if surprised by my answer and nodded, "Ms. Green, is everything okay with you and that boy Adrian?"

I frowned, "Yes."

"And you'll be turning up for detention this Wednesday?"

"Um... I guess."

Nodding, he tossed a piece of paper onto my table. It contained a phone number.

"That's mine, Charley," the man said, his beady eyes meeting my gaze momentarily, "I noticed detention ended late last time. If you need someone to pick you up, I'm always available."

One corner of his lips tipped upwards into an inviting smile.