Teenage Millionaire

Chapter 3: Trouble

The next day, he shows up very late to first period, but he still shows up about twenty minutes before the end of class. Those twenty minutes feel so long- I avoid his gaze studiously, and it feels like I'm sweating bullets. Mr. Hawkes doesn't call on him, and after class he pulls him aside. I book it out of the classroom and head straight for the calculus classroom. He doesn't come, even though I know (since yesterday) that we're in the same calculus class. It only makes me more nervous, and I make a beeline for my locker as soon as the lunch bell rings.

It doesn't seem to matter. He knows where my locker is, and it's lunchtime, and I have nowhere to go anyways. I spot him coming from down the hallway and immediately zip my bag up and slam my locker closed, clicking the lock into place and starting to speed walk in the opposite direction.

Again, it doesn't seem to matter. He's taller than me, and he has long legs. He catches up easily and casually settles an arm around my shoulder. I keep walking stiffly, my gaze trained straight ahead.

"You told."

I swallow and don't respond. He waits for a few moments, before asking, "Why?"

He doesn't sound angry, or confused, or bitter. He sounds genuinely curious. I force myself not to look at him. I clench my jaw and don't answer.

"None of the teachers can really do anything to me. You know that. So why?"

"Not everyone is invincible."

"You thought you'd get in trouble?"

"Yes. I would have."

"How? You're only in trouble if you get caught. I wouldn't have said anything."

Oh, of course he's one of those people. Saying 'you're only in trouble if you get caught' is the worst reason to do something that would get you in trouble if anyone found out. Because people do find out. You will get caught. Always. And if you don't- how do you even live, knowing you're keeping a secret like that? Knowing that you would be in trouble if you ever did get caught? How do you sleep at night? How are you not constantly paranoid?

"Is it because you've gotten accustomed to the label of being the teacher's pet? So now you think you have to live up to it?"

"No," I snap, slapping his arm off my shoulder.

He circles in front of me so he's facing me and stops walking. Panic races through me- did I go too far? Is he going to yell at me, or scold me, or patronize me?

After a moment, my panic ebbs a little bit, because he doesn't say anything. I could just walk around him- but his gaze nails me to the spot. He's doing that thing again, where he looks like he's searching my face. I swallow and shift my weight to my other foot uncomfortably. I don't want to push him any further, because he might be angry at me already and he's known for being eccentric and often unreasonable or ridiculous, so if he is already mad, well, I don't want to set him off by saying anything more- but I also want him to leave me alone. Why is he talking to me? Why now? Because I take 'good notes' and he wants to cheat off me?

"Fascinating," he murmurs under his breath, and I suddenly feel a little like a specimen under a microscope during a biology practical exam. It makes me even more uncomfortable, and a little angry- just because he's rich doesn't mean he can do whatever he likes to the rest of us. That little burst of discomfort and annoyance propels me to move again, so I swallow and march around him without a word.

But of course, he can't just leave me alone. That would be too reasonable. I can hear him walking behind me, but he doesn't make any move to walk beside me again or make conversation. A moment later, I feel a sharp poke at the bottom of my spine and I jump, nearly dropping my bag. I stop and turn, still feeling aftershocks of the jolt running through me.