Page 14 of Wicked Scandal

Once I’m back at the table, I get grilled by the group about Sam, along with a few jokes about Mrs. Jenkins. Since the start of her class, everyone fucks with me, thinking I have a thing for her. It got so much worse when I started spending time with her on that essay, and I won’t lie, maybe I did sprout some ridiculous feelings. But our time together ended abruptly and she’s kept our interactions short ever since.

My responses to the group are short with simple yes and no answers. Even as they keep going with their antics about Mrs. Jenkins and Sam.

For some reason, I just can’t stop watching her. There’s this agonizing feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me she’s in danger. It’s crazy, though. She and Mayor Jenkins have been married for years so if there was something going on in their marriage, why would she stick around? Why not just leave the asshole?

The first time I saw Mrs. Jenkins, she caught my eye. There’s something about her that has me wanting to know more. I never even knew who she was until this school year. I’ve seen her around, but she always moves quickly through the halls and doesn’t interact much outside of her classroom. I just always assumed she was an introvert who kept her head down. Which is odd for someone so beautiful and smart.

A sudden burst of pain in my shoulder has me snapping my eyes to Rome. “What the hell!” I seethe, rubbing the spot he just punched.

“Snap the fuck out of it.” He laughs. “You’re practically drooling over our teacher.”

Sam returns with my drink, eyes wide as she listens in on our conversation. “You’re drooling over Mrs. Jenkins?” she asks as she turns her head to steal a glance for herself.

“No!” I huff. “Sorry, Sam. My brother’s just an idiot.”

“I wouldn’t blame ya,” Sam says. “She’s hot as hell. But she’s out of your league.” Her hand rests on my shoulder and she leans close, whispering, “I think you need to get over her and think about my offer for prom.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she waggles her brows as she walks away.

“She’s right, ya know,” Rome says, opening his big mouth again. “Mrs. Jenkins is out of your league. Just fuck your feelings for her into Sam.”

“Shut up,” I growl, blinking my eyes around the room, landing on Mrs. Jenkins.“I’m just concerned about her.”

“Concerned?” Luke chuckles. “About what? The color of her panties?”

My eyes roll as I pick up my half-eaten pizza slice, ignoring his crude remark.

I’ve got a mouthful when Elodie asks, “Why are you concerned about her? Is something wrong?” There’s sincerity in her tone, which I appreciate because I sure as hell don’t get that from Rome or Luke.

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I’m sure it’s nothing. She’s just been extra quiet lately.”

“She’s always quiet,” Luke butts in and I notice him staring at her now, too. In fact, everyone is. I never should have opened my mouth. Now she’s gonna notice we’re all watching her. “She’s like this goddess full of mystery and secrets.”

“I bet she’s a murderer on the run or some government spy,” Rome says, and I immediately shake my head at my idiot brother. “Probably rigs the election for her husband, too.” He shrugs his shoulders when I glower at him. “Just saying. The quiet ones hold the darkest secrets.”

I sigh heavily. “She doesn't rig the election. Her husband was the only candidate both terms he served. This is the first year he even has an opponent.”

Luke sets his empty glass down, eyebrows raised. “So you agree she’s probably just a murderer then?”

“I gotta get out of here.” I swing my legs out of the booth and get up. “You all are too much for me.”

“Come on,” Rome sings. “We’re just fucking with you. Sit down.” He pats the seat but I shake my head. Elodie is watching Mrs. Jenkins as well and I’m kind of glad I brought it to her attention. Elodie is smart and maybe if Mrs. Jenkins won’t open up to me, there is a chance she could open up to her.

“I got schoolwork,” I lie, not wanting to go into detail about my new job for Dad’s campaign.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet and retrieve a crisp ten-dollar bill. “See y’all later.” I toss down the money and make my way toward the door.

As I’m leaving, so are Mrs. Jenkins and her husband.

She looks at me, our eyes lock, and I swear for a moment she is pleading with me to help her.

Am I delusional? I must be.

“Have a good evening, Wilder,” she says softly with a pressed smile as Mayor Jenkins holds the door open.

Well, at least he did that. He can’t be that much of an asshole.

“You, too,” I tell her as I walk out behind them.

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