Firestorm | ✎

8. lover's quarrel

    "You may speak."

     Isla and Elias had been summoned to the headmaster's office to share progress on their tutoring sessions. With everything else going on, the boy almost forgot that this whole mess between them had started with having to master the bloody French language.

    "We've kept the rigorous sessions each week, as was your wish," Isla started, her voice sounding so sweet and polite that Elias couldn't help but do a double take. The headmaster knew nothing of the demon in her. "We've also established our own rules and have been quite cordial." She turned to him. "Don't you agree?"

     Cordial in the sessions, not so much anywhere else.

    "Abso-bloody-lutely," Elias gave a shining grin.

     The headmaster raised his brows. "That's good news." Pause. "Any other of your mishaps I should be aware of?"

    "No," both of them said sternly.

    "Very well." He opened one of his cabinets underneath his desk and pulled out a thick folder, ruffling through its pages. Bloody hell—"Mr. Sabatier," the man addressed, and his heart skipped a beat, "your file states that your recent marks in the French Language has seemingly improved. But not in the way I desire." Then he looked straight at Isla. "Miss Kingsley, I suggest you brush up your methods."

     The embarrassment of Isla seeing his folder was instantly washed away by the headmaster's redirection of blame. She was taking the fall for this? Elias couldn't pretend he wasn't shocked, especially since he was used to the man's reprimanding.

    "I—" She stopped her protest, having a staring match with the headmaster. Did he miss something? "You're absolutely right. It's done."

     When they walked out of his office, he couldn't help it.

    "Did you make a deal with the devil there or what?" 

     Isla whipped her head at him, already opening her mouth to retort, but decided to keep it shut at the last minute.

    "What? You're just going to ignore me forever?"

    "Quite possibly."

    "You're talking to me right now."

     She opened her mouth for a retort, but realised the truth in his words. She flipped him the two-finger sign instead. Elias cackled.

     "Oh, so we're going for childish routines now? You hurt me so, so badly."

    "Babe!"

     That was definitely not Isla.

     The two rivals stopped at their tracks, meeting the same view in front of them: Blair sauntering in with all her Bradshaw glory, purse on her elbow like a weapon she was ready to throw. She stopped next to him and linked her arm around his waist as a sign of superiority. Elias blinked for a second before immediately playing into his role, slinging an arm on her shoulder.

    "Hey, babe," he grinned.

     Blair was an astounding actress. Indeed, it might be because she was attracted to him, but, well... anything to bring the cards on the table.

     The raven-haired girl cocked her head. "Isabel, right?"

    "Isla," she corrected, a tight smile on her face. "We've met, Blair."

     Wait, what? 

    "And when did I miss this special occasion?" he brought up casually, even though he was burning with interest. What were the odds that Isla Kingsley and Blair Bradshaw had already met? They were basically on two opposite sides of the spectrum.