Page 11 of Twisted Lies

Chapter 6

Astrid

“The test will last the whole period.” Professor Harmon passes out blue books to the first student in each row to pass back.

I pass the stack back and then flip through mine. My eyes widen as I search the book for the questions. Each lined page is blank, so I casually look around to see if anyone else has noticed, but they don’t seem to care.

“Today, using the Socratic Method,” she continues, “you will convince me why you deserve a higher grade than the one you’re currently receiving. The more meaningful the question you ask, the more likely you will pass the exam.”

I stare at Professor Harmon, and she grins at me. “Argue for your grade, and if you’re up to date on your homework, that won’t be hard to do.”

Didn’t see this one coming. I’ve never taken an exam where I asked the questions. Definitely can’t cheat in this class. I learned that after a few weeks. I flip my book over to the back page and write all the reasons why I should pass this class.

My pen flies over the page faster than I expect as the thoughts pour out. I start with the obvious, like showing up and doing my homework. But I also write down stuff Professor Harmon wouldn’t know because I read ahead and looked stuff up that I didn’t know, sticking to .edu sites.

Pretty soon, I’m forming a great question to answer when the sound of paper hitting the floor makes me freeze. I don’t look down, but I’m pretty sure who threw it. Each time I see Pierce, I look through him after his spectacle at the pit. All I can see is that girl between his legs while he stared at me. I shudder as I focus harder on the page, coming up with another question.

The kid behind me shoves the note under my seat with her toe and then pushes her pen in my back. I shake my head and do my best to ignore this petty shit, but my face starts tensing up. I want to lash out but can’t. Not here, not now. Another note hits the back of my head and makes a loud, cracking sound when it hits the ground.

I don’t look at it. I don’t dare. They chase me.

Aggravation makes my hand tremble, and my thoughts are distracted by the folded paper by my feet. I lean forward, hunching over my shoulders, as I focus on my exam. A month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to get through this moment without lashing out. I’d have been on my feet and shoving that note down someone’s throat just because she hit me in the head. And the loser would have shouted out what she wanted even if the teacher was in the middle of talking.

My mind keeps wandering, and the meeting with Dr. Rawlins plays back in my mind. I’m defending myself with words now. I’m actually applying this deep shit in my real life. I press my lips together as I get poked again, this time hard in the shoulder. I’m beating the shit out of this kid behind me when class is over. Detention will be worth it.

“Astrid,” Professor Harmon waits for me to look up and meet her gaze. “Bring the notes to my desk.”

“But I didn’t…”

Professor Harmon cuts me off with a raised hand. “Leave them on the corner of my desk. Please.”

Bending over, I give the girl sitting behind me a look of death that widens her eyes in terror. Bitch, if I pay, you will pay too. I pick up the notes and place them on the corner of Harmon’s desk in a neat pile. I wait there until she looks at me.

Professor Harmon smiles thinly. “You’re not the one I want. Go sit down.”

I nod my head and ignore the glares as I return to my seat. I might not know how the rich kids would have handled it, so I’ll figure it out on my own. But I’m not letting this slide, not when I have a hope of going to college. I’m not expecting Ivy League or some other fancy school, but I’m smart enough to ace a local community college.

The harassment stops, and the tests are handed in. Professor Harmon eyes Pierce as he places his test on her desk. He ignores her and drops it on the stack next to the notes. When he returns to his desk, Pierce avoids my wicked glare. The rest of the class is anticlimactic, and frankly, Professor Harmon can drone on like a white noise machine.

Her phone chimes. “Class dismissed. Astrid, Felicity, and Justin stay behind.”

What? Wait. I was certain Pierce was being the jerk and tossing the notes at my head. Justin? He must have been passing them for Pierce. The asshole gets away again.

“But Professor Harmon,” Felicity whines. “I didn’t do anything.” I had wondered what the girl’s name was who sat behind me. And her voice is exactly how I imagined—bad brakes screeching to a halt at a red light.

“I saw you,” replies Professor Harmon flatly. “And you know I want to talk to you.”

The girl looks miserable as she stays at her seat and pouts like her mom just told her no. Pierce walks out of the classroom with his nose in the air like his shit doesn’t stink too. Asshole. I was so hoping it was him that got caught. But Justin? He’s been a douche, too, though not lately, but still. He knew I didn’t have to perform any tasks, and he used me the most. That laptop could get me kicked out. I stare at the note on the corner of the desk, uncomfortable not knowing. What the fuck is in the notes?

Just the three of us remain in our seats as the hallway fills with chatter and laughter. Professor Harmon stands and then shuts the door. When her back is turned, I glance over at Justin. He looks calm as he glances over at me. But Felicity would never make it in a life of crime. She looks like she’s about to pee herself over a note, and she only passed it.

“Felicity,” says Professor Harmon as she sits down.

The girl jumps off her seat like her ass was pinched.

“Do not pass notes in class,” continues Professor Harmon.

“But they weren’t mine.” Jesus, the girl is whining loud enough to make a dog howl.

---