Page 44 of Drifting

A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stands at the front with a book in his hand. “You’re late. In case you didn’t know, that bell you just heard means you’re late. You need to be sitting down and ready to go when that rings. Understand? I hope this won’t be a normal occurrence for you. Please find a seat where you can. You’ll have to share a book with someone beside you until you get one. To start this year, we’ll be reading poetry.”

Shit, it’s only the first day, and he’s ready to go. This school doesn’t mess around.

I mouth, “Sorry,” and scan the room, trying to find a seat.

I spot one in the back between two large guys in ripped jeans and dirty shirts.

As I near, I get a whiff of a skunky odor normally associated with marijuana, and I notice their eyes are glassy. When I sit between them, the stench is even stronger. It’s not just the marijuana smell, either. They reek of B.O. When the hell was the last time they showered?

I grab the collar of my shirt and tug it up over my nose, not that it does any good because of all the holes in it.

A tickle irritates the back of my throat, and my eyes water. I can’t stay here. There’s no way I can sit through the whole class with this smell.

I scan the room one more time in hopes of spotting an empty seat I missed, but all I find are two sets of onyx eyes staring at me with concern.

Holy shit, the twins. How did I miss them?

As my eyes water more, Mav stands and strolls toward the back of the classroom.

What’s he doing?

Mr. Davis throws his book on his desk. “Mr. Knight, where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m still listening, Mr. Teacher. I’m just going to switch seats with her.” Mav points toward me.

The guy on my right chuckles. “Yeah, let Mav sit back here with us.”

“Mr. Knight, your family might own this town, but you don’t own me or this classroom. Now, sit down, or I’ll give you detention, and you won’t be able to play in Friday’s game.” Mr. Davis puffs out his chest, but it’s hindered by the ugly vest he wears.

Dom stands, crossing his massive arms, and glares at the teacher. “I don’t think I heard you right. Did you just threaten my brother? You need to rethink what you just said about not being owned by us.”

The color drains from Mr. Davis’s face.

Dom doesn’t stop staring at Mr. Davis. Even I’d get uneasy under that level of attention. Mr. Davis noisily breathes in and out as sweat beads on his forehead.

With a sneer on his face, he turns to me. “Ms. Winters, since you enjoy disturbing the class, will you please switch seats with Mr. Knight so I can continue with my lesson?”

I clench my jaw as I gather my stuff and take my new seat, not glancing at Mav or Dom.

When Dom sets his book on my desk, I refuse to open it.

Mr. Davis continues with the class, but I don’t hear a word he says as I sit, stewing in anger. I didn’t ask them to help me; I don’t need their help. Now, everyone thinks I’m weak and can’t take care of myself.

When the bell rings, all I want to do is get the hell out of there. I throw my stuff into my bag and slam Dom’s book on his desk.

Mr. Davis stops me as I limp past his desk. “Mrs. Winters, I hope you won’t make it a practice of disturbing my class. You can find the book we use in our library. I expect you to acquire it by tomorrow. Any questions?”

“No, Mr. Davis. I apologize for being late, and I won’t let it happen again. I’ll make sure I get the book for tomorrow.”

“I suggest you run, so you’re not late for your next class.”

I glance down at my cast. Yeah, okay, asshole. I walk out into the hall to find the twins waiting for me.

Limping right up to Mav, I punch him in the gut.

“Oomph. Why did you hit me?” he questions, rubbing his stomach.

“Did I ask you to switch seats with me? The teacher already had it out for me, and you made it worse. Next time, butt out! I don’t need your help.” Shoving Mav against the locker, I search in my bag, grab the phone, then slam it against Dom’s chest. “I’m not a charity case, and I don’t take things from guys I don’t know. They come with too many damn strings attached.”

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