Bad Boy Isn't My Type... (Published as 'The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Boys)

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

                “Where’s fidget?” I hissed, sitting down next to Dylan. He looked over my head at the empty seat before shrugging.

                “No idea, maybe he’s sick?” he offered, leaning back in his seat. I sighed; life would be so much easier if Dylan or Kenzi knew about this stuff. The night before, after Hunter had come out of the takeaway, I’d shown him the text and he’d insisted on keeping me as close as possible to him all the way home, not that I was complaining. I was, however, letting him choose the location of our next outing, I was crap.

                “Maybe my leg will get a bit of peace now,” I muttered and grabbed my book, putting it on my desk. The professor wasn’t there yet, which was slightly strange, but Maya was, which meant that I had to sit there in silence, trying to occupy myself by talking to my pen. Trust me, it tells me what I want to know.

                “Morning, everyone. We have a later transfer today, he has come from the language class and is swapping places with Edward,” the professor announced, walking into the room with a smile. Edward, who the hell was Edward?

                It didn’t take me long to figure out that Edward as the guy that normally sat next to me. When I looked up at the sound of the chair scraping, I found myself face to face with Shack.

                “Good morning, girly,” he replied in a chirpy tone, dropping his books onto the desk and pulling the chair in with one smooth motion. Holy crap.

                “Uh, good morning, stalker,” I coughed out, leaning closer to Dylan who glanced over his shoulder curiously.

                “Andy, I know that I smell good, but a little space would be nice,” he whispered. I smiled at him but made a face at his back when he turned around again.

                “So, what are we studying?” Shack asked, turning to look at me with his icy eyes. I raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the board, keeping my hands below the table so that he couldn’t see they were shaking a little.

                “C’mon, Andy, say something. I’ve heard that you’re quite talkative,” he replied with a wink, leaning on one elbow to look at me.

                “Not really, I’m a bit of a bore if I’m honest.” I tried to glance at Maya’s stock of pencils, making mine the same to hopefully ward the wacko off. Where’s a crucifix when you need one?

                “Not what I’ve heard,” he replied, studying my face, which I was carefully keeping blank.

                “Well, you know what they say...” I trailed off, secretly begging the professor to start talking again, at least it would shut Shack up.

                “I have a question,” I finally admitted, twisting to look at him. He cocked his head in interest, giving me a curious look. “Actually, I have two.” He nodded.

                “Shoot.”

                “What’s your first name?” Shack groaned, leaning back in his seat.

                “That’s another story for another time,” he dismissed. “Next question.”

                “Story? I’m not asking whether you came out the fire exit or the sun roof, I was asking your name!” Shack just raised his eyebrows.