Page 21 of Raise Hell

He looks like he would kill me if he could get away with it.

Slinking away would be a mistake. There is no going back now.

I sweep into the room with my head held high. Little does anyone know that I’m not looking them in the eye because they might see the fear in my gaze.

“Is this seat taken?”

Without waiting for him to say anything, I pull the chair forward so he can’t hook it with his foot when I try to sit down and send me crashing to the floor.

But his smile only widens. “It’s all yours.”

“Such a gentleman.”

My neck tingles, like I can feel his glare boring into my skin.

I wait a beat with my shoulders tense, expecting spit wads or paper airplanes to hit the back of my head.

But I should have known Drake would be more sophisticated than your average public school bully.

An older man with snow-white hair and a severe expression storms into the classroom, slamming the door shut behind him. A few seconds late, the disappointed face of an unlucky student appears in the inset window. Our professor’s satisfied smirk is the only sign that he hears the doorknob frantically shaking.

Apparently, being ten seconds late to class means you don’t get to attend at all.

He writes his name on the board with a scratchy piece of chalk. St. Bart’s has access to all of the newest technology, but it seems like some things are old-fashioned just for the sake of it.

“I am Dr. Hewey. Welcome to Behavioral Economics. If you are in the wrong place, do not bother to explain yourself. Just go. If there is any question in your mind that this will be the most difficult class you will take, either here at St. Bartholomew’s College or otherwise, now is the time for you to run. I am going to assume everyone here has completed the prerequisite reading that was assigned over the summer. You would be wise not to contradict that assumption.”

The class shifts uncomfortably in their seats as we seem to collectively come to the understanding that Dr. Hewey is officially out of fucks.

This might have been a very serious mistake on my part.

“Let us see who remembers something from the reading.” Dr. Hewey scans the room. Every single student avoids his gaze. “Who would like to be my first victim?”

Aside from the squeak of a chair, silence fills the room. I’m either not the only one who didn’t do the reading, or Dr. Hewey has a reputation for being a hard ass and nobody wants to volunteer as tribute.

I’m guessing it’s the latter.

I just need to avoid catching his attention for the next fifty-five minutes.

Something pokes me painfully in the side, probably the sharpened end of a pencil, from the feel of it. Before I can stop myself, I let out a loud yelp and shoot half out of my chair.

Dr. Hewey’s gaze zeroes in on me.

“I am ecstatic to see someone so eager,” he says drily. “And whom do I have the pleasure of torturing today.”

“Um…I’m Olivia Pratt.”

“Thank you for volunteering, Ms. Pratt.”

Public embarrassment is not how my first day is supposed to go. I refuse to look back at Drake, but I know that bastard is grinning from ear to ear.

The room is quiet, but I practically hear his laughter ringing in my ears. “I’m not volunteering. I was just startled by something.”

“And now you have the chance to get your turn in front of the firing squad out of the way.” Dr. Hewey leans against the edge of the desk and crosses his arms over his chest. “Define the law of supply and demand and the factors that affect market equilibrium, using specific examples from the text.”

I assume his question is supposed to be in English, but that doesn’t mean I’m able to make any sense of it. “I might have skimmed a bit over that part.”

“Let us try an easier question, then. The rest of the class will certainly appreciate your willingness to balance the grading curve.”

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