“We have a problem,” Paris said as he and Riley sat next to each other in Biology.
Her week was going great. First the police haven’t ruled out murder for her friend’s death, and then she found there was a guy in a masquerade mask stalking her, and he was giving her a weird feeling in her belly that she hated, and now the teachers were miraculously putting them both together.
Great, right?
“We have a problem,” Paris repeated when she didn’t answer.
“Let me guess,” she responded back while taking notes, “you caused it?”
He was silent, but she felt him glaring at her.
“Would shooting you fix this problem?” she asked him. “No? Then leave me alone.”
His eyes raked her head-to-toe, but he still said, “Meet me outside during lunch.”
Lunch? That was after this class, and she had no classes after that. She usually just went home after hanging with Ryan and Claire.
“No,” she responded.
“You have to,” he stated.
“No,” she responded harshly, “I don’t. I’m my own independent person and you don’t control me, Paris.”
“Riley,” the teacher said when she felt Paris glaring at her again. “Are you paying attention?”
“Yep,” she said. “Paris and I are having a conversation about how squids spray ink at other animals to catch them off guard and then eat them in their most vulnerable moment.”
Paris rolled his eyes at the metaphor she used, and also the reason that it wasn’t factually correct.
“Uh,” the teacher responded, “okay. I guess we’re talking about squids, yeah. But we aren’t on the whole ‘what they eat’ thing yet.”
And she continued talking to the class.
“Riley,” Paris said in a lower tone; probably so they wouldn’t get caught again.
“Paris,” she said sharply, still taking notes.
“You need to listen to me,” he said.
“Or what?” she countered. “You’d kill me? Let me finish my Algebra homework first so at least that’s complete.”
“I’m not going to kill you,” he said.
She never responded.
“Riley,” he pressed.
“I’m busy.”
“Can you listen to me for one second?” he snapped.
“Nope,” she said back, “I’m physically incapable.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Riley.”
She was silent.
“Riley.”
A sudden irritation washed through her like fire and she snapped her head to him, hissing through gritted teeth, “What?”
“Meet me outside at lunch,” he repeated, “got it? And fix that tone or I‘ll teach you to fix it.”
“Fine,” she said despite his threat, “now let me work.”
He smiled in satisfaction.
ns 15.158.61.52da2