Page 22 of Raise Hell

That insult is the first thing that hasn’t gone completely over my head.

Drake has the nerve to laugh, which gives the rest of the class permission to do the same. If I wanted to make a good first impression on the student body of St. Bart’s, this is not the way to go about it.

Dr. Hewey waits for the nervous twitters to die down before asking another question that I certainly won’t be able to answer.

“Describe for me the four factors that determine a market failure as identified by the text.”

If I had even an ounce less pride, I might slink out of the classroom right now with my tail between my legs. But I’ve never been smart enough to know when to walk away.

“I guess I don’t remember very much from the reading. I didn’t realize there would be an oral pop quiz.”

Dr. Hewey’s eyes narrow, but before he can say anything, a snide voice pipes up behind me.

“Market failure occurs when there are the existence of externalities, common property resources, public goods, and asymmetric information. Usually, it can only be solved by government intervention to force market efficiency.” Drake’s eyes are heavy-lidded when I glance back at him, those intense eyes lit with a green fire hot enough to burn my soul. I might have thought he was reading from the book, if not for the fact that he glares at me as he continues. “Page seven of the textbook. Olivia would probably know that if she’d bothered to read it.”

“I do not remember asking the peanut gallery to speak for me, thank you,” Dr. Hewey grumbles at Drake, though he doesn’t seem particularly upset. When his attention returns to me, his frown deepens. “Though it seems Mr. Van Koch has a point. Tell me the truth, Ms. Pratt. Did you complete the assigned reading?”

Deliberately, I turn away from Drake to fully face Dr. Hewey. Seeing that asshole’s smirk out of the corner of my eye makes me want to do something violent. “I didn’t enroll in this class until yesterday, so I didn’t know there was assigned reading to complete before school started. There were circumstances outside of my control.”

The professor uncomfortably clears his throat, but the severe expression on his face doesn’t alter. “Be that as it may. Do you really find it appropriate for the rest of the class to suffer due to your…circumstances?”

The hesitation in his voice tells me everything I need to know.

Even the faculty are well aware of what happened on this campus last year to Olivia.

And they’ve chosen to look the other way.

There won’t be any protection for me from the adults whose jobs it is to do just that.

Anger and frustration build inside me. Inexplicably, I feel a rush of tears burning my eyes that I refuse to let fall. I hate that I cry when I’m angry, it just makes me feel even more out of control.

“I guess not,” I say through clenched teeth.

But Drake isn’t done.

“Personally, Dr. Hewey, I find it particularly offensive that one of my fellow students would come to your classroom so unprepared. It’s disrespectful to both the learning environment and the other members of this class who did complete the assigned reading in a timely manner. Some of us are actually here to learn.” His lazy drawl doesn’t do anything to hide the vitriol in his voice. His tone reminds me of diet soda, syrupy sweetness that is entirely fake. When I turn to look at him, the glare that crosses his face makes it clear he thinks I’m worth less than the dirt on his shoes. “I was under the impression that you didn’t allow students in your classroom unless they came prepared to learn.”

“You have always been very good at memorizing facts, Mr. Van Koch.” Dr. Hewey turns to me, face expressionless. I imagine I see the smallest touch of regret in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can be sure. “Ms. Pratt, I am regrettably going to have to ask you to leave my classroom. You are welcome to return once you are as prepared as the rest of your classmates.”

Drake just got me kicked out of class.

I need to leave before I burst into frustrated tears in front of everyone.

But I won’t go down without a fight.

Standing, I take my time picking up my books and loading them into my bag. If they all like to watch me so much, then they can sit and enjoy themselves for a little longer.

When I turn, the bottom of my bag sweeps across the top of Drake’s desk. His neat stack of papers go flying before he can grab them as a bunch of pencils and pens clatter to the ground.

It’s petty and doesn’t make up for the fact that he just got me kicked out of class, but the move does make me feel slightly better.

Instead of diving for his stuff, he just gives me a condescending half-smile when I risk a glance at his face. “Bye now.”

That would be the same expression he wore if he managed to get me to leave for good.

“Fuck your mother,” I respond quietly, barely moving my lips.

He just chuckles as I stride for the door.

Dr. Hewey has already moved on, peppering another student with random questions. He doesn’t bother to look at me as I pass his desk.

I already knew it was true, but I don’t like the reminder of just how alone I am here.

When the door closes and I spare a glance through the inset window, Drake is the one answering a question. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but from the animated look on his face I know his response is the correct one.

I need to remember that for next time — the guy is smart. It won’t be easy to knock him off-balance.

But everyone has a weakness, and eventually I’ll find his.

This round might go to Drake Van Koch, but he won’t win this war.

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