Page 20 of SNOB

She doesn’t look up.

Hannah lifts her chin all the way back to her seat, relishing in my humiliation.

“So you’re just gonna let her bully me?” I ask, squinting through the paint at Professor Riviera. She’s not who I thought she was.

“Channel it into your art,” she says, waving her hand.

“Hey, Hannah,” Beau calls. “Tell you what, you leave my friend alone and you can have my custom box of Ladurée macarons.” Lah-doo-what? “Straight from France. I hear these are Dean Patel’s favourites. Shame to let them go to waste.” Hannah’s head whips our way, her eyes moving from me to Beau. They narrow as if she’s reading our insides. “Suit yourself,” Beau moves to push the contents back into his leather backpack.

“Wait a second.” Hannah tilts her head towards Beau. A student next to her gets up to retrieve the pastel-coloured box. “I’ll accept your conditions for the rest of the day. I’m not surprised you're taking up for the vermin, Beau, but do yourself a favour and think about which side you want to be on.”

For the rest of the day.

Hannah’s words linger, reminding me whatever relief I get is only temporary.

“Next time I see you, you’ll be making those sounds on my cock.”

“Hannah, I’ll never be on your side,” Beau says. “But deal.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, turning to Beau as I squint through the paint still burning my eyes.

Beau chuckles, “Let me help you there.” He gets up and grabs a cloth from the stone sink at the side of the class. When he returns, he presses the cloth to my face, the coldness soothing the burn as he wipes the paint out of my eyes.

My vision clears to a smooth face and round eyes. “I mean it, Beau. Thank you. You’re like, the only one here looking out for me, you know?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He taps his brush against my canvas. “Now, get to work.”

Turning to my canvas, my shoulders drop as Beau’s ramble of the assignment runs through my head. I don't know what’s more painful: the prank Hannah pulled or my lack of inspiration.

You shouldn’t have come here, Ember.

Shaking my head, my eyes focus on the canvas again.

I will make you beg.

Shaking my head again, I can feel the hay rolling through my brain when I wish his words away. It’s the only thing coming to mind and it makes my skin heat. Picking up a brush laid in the tray, I move it against the board. Pushing it against the canvas, I try to focus on broad strokes.

Plead.

Beg.

I. Will. Break you.

Crack!

“Hey, Ember,” Beau’s voice brings the room rushing back. “Watch this.” Looking down, my hand grips to each end of the paintbrush, snapped in two. Beau doesn’t notice, nudging me again. “Hannah’s about to explode.”

Hannah’s hand bolts into the air, her face much redder than before. “Professor Riviera?”

Professor Riviera’s eyes don’t move off her desk as she answers with a bored, “Yes?”

“Can I be excused?” Hannah squirms in her seat, glancing at the door.

“Do what you want, but you’re not getting this time back.”

Hannah lowers her shaky hand, hesitating before moving it to her brush. She squirms some more, a hand coming to her stomach.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Beau whispers.

---