Darkly Devoted (Book 1, 2, 3)

DD Chapter 16 - Anywhere But Here

Chapter 16

"ALL RIGHT, class, settle down. No talking during the test."

Their Calculus teacher, Mrs. Flora, struggled to maintain order. She was a busty middle-aged woman with curly chestnut hair who always seemed on the verge of losing her temper. That morning, she was racing about handing out the unit test. "As you all know, we have a new student in this class, transferring from Lethe Academy. I expect you all to be welcoming."

"Now, where is he?" Mrs. Flora muttered. "I hope he isn't lost."

"I'm here," a voice from the back of the class interrupted. Vivienne barely looked up as a tall flurry of blond hair and black cargo pants took the seat beside her. "I think I found someone I know."

It wasn't his words that made her look up. Instead, it was the sudden silence from the peanut gallery of annoying teenage girls. Vivienne's moved over to see a pair of haphazardly laced sneakers and a dark green shoulder bag. He was wearing a dark gray T-shirt under a worn hoodie that looked artfully ripped, like the kind young people in high school wore. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw his sharp, amused eyes.

"Blake," she whispered.

"See, she knows me."

Vivienne wasn't sure if she was dreaming again. There he was, sitting next to her, lazily resting his chin in one open hand; he looked like any bored teenager. It took Vivienne a while to notice the girls were giggling at her for staring at the new boy. Vivienne quickly focused on the blackboard, where Mrs. Fora dropped a packet containing the unit test on her desk. Vivienne started putting her name on the booklet, but her attention wasn't there.

Her eyes drifted back to Blake. He was still there — sitting beside her. It wasn't a dream. He sighed. He still wasn't the studious type. Some things never change. He was jotting something down in his notebook.

Then, as Mrs. Flora went to grab her bag from the back of the room, Blake turned his notebook to her. He had only written down a single sentence.

Surprised?

Vivienne glared back and scribbled a note of her own.

What are you doing here?

"Miss Minthe, do you have something to share with the class?" Mrs. Flora barked. Vivienne immediately dropped her note and pretended to fixate on her test.

Mrs. Flora brushed past Blake's desk and handed him a packet, too. Her tone was much more gentle as she addressed him. Vivienne wondered whether it was because he was new or because his good looks had captivated his middle-aged teacher, too.

"It's your first day. You don't have to take the test, but are welcome to give it your best shot."

"Here," Vivienne giggled as she slipped him a pencil. She was enjoying how bewildered he looked. Vivienne had a feeling that if Blake knew nothing about Remin, he absolutely had no not the slightest inkling about navigating a basic high school class. Vivienne almost felt sorry for him. Perhaps, he would quit and retreat to his office in the mountains by the end of the day.

Blake closed his test book about fifteen minutes into the exam. Vivienne, who was only on the second problem set, wondered if he had given up and intended to flee from the classroom. Instead, he crossed his arms and sighed. Then, as though suddenly remembering something, he slid her pencil back on her armrest.

See, Blake? You don't like owing me either.

Vivienne bit her tongue. Mrs. Flora was heading down the aisles. She seemed as perplexed about Blake's performance as Vivienne was. Mrs. Flora flipped over Blake's test packet and studied the answers.

Mrs. Flora dropped the test on Blake's table. "Can I speak to you in private?"

Blake shot Vivienne a pained look as he slowly got up from his desk. Luckily, Mrs. Flora's idea of privacy was simply at the front of the class. Vivienne saw the mean old woman smile kindly at Blake now they were "alone." She handed him a slip of paper on which he scribbled a note. Mrs. Flora's eyes widened.

"Remarkable. That was a graduate-level problem. There is a scholarship for students like you. I think you have a real shot at it. Can I write a letter to your parents?"

If Vivienne weren't completely stumped by the question she had been struggling over, she would have laughed her guts out.

Write a letter to his parents? They were long dead. And if they had been alive, Vivienne doubted either of them would have cared. Not unless the letter came from a Chinese billionaire oligarch who was trying to commandeer their son's company.

"Who is it that is offering this scholarship?" Blake asked, quietly, but just loudly enough for the rest of the class to overhear.

"Mr. Pectrichor, on behalf of Tercel."

"I would never take anything from those corporate dogs."

Vivienne rolled her eyes as he saved himself by shredding the test paper and dropping it soundly in the nearest wastebasket. A quiet cheer erupted throughout the classroom. Vivienne saw Zissa's thin lips spread into a broad smile. So it began: her new friend here at Remin High was quickly integrating himself into the student body.