Page 61 of Shattered

“Just hanging,” I reply, forcing a chuckle.

“Who were you with last night?” Kal glances at his laptop. “I saw your Instagram story. Who were you in the school pool with?”

“I bet it was ‘Sir.’” Tray nudges me, and my eyes involuntarily dart to Bohdi. He sits there, eyes cast downward, the pain clear as day to me, but to everyone else he appears as his usual Mr. Stiles.

“Quake.” Kal nudges me again, his focus shifting between Bohdi and me. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” I fake innocence.

“You were staring at him weirdly,” Kal observes, his eyes moving over my face as if he’s trying to read every emotion.

“I was just . . . being myself,” I retort, my frustration bubbling.

“Well, I’d stare too,” Tray whispers. “Did you see those muscles, the tattoos? And the way he swings that bag in the gym? Damn.” His words hang in the air. “He’s hot as fuck.”

“Enough,” I snap, my anger catching Kal and Tray off guard. Jealousy rears its ugly head before I can even think about it. Both Kal and Tray stare at me wide-eyed.

My gaze remains fixed on him, the way he moves, commands attention. Not just from guys, but girls too, their eyes starry.Rage simmer within me; I clench my teeth, jaw ticking as I survey the room. All eyes are on Bohdi, and I despise it.

I really fucking hate it.

The class drags on, and he doesn’t glance my way even once. Why do I feel so desperate, craving his attention like a needy fool? I’m supposed to hate him, right? I wanted him to stay far away from me. So why does the idea of our extra session, just the two of us, ignite a flutter in my chest? I leave my laptop untouched, Tray and Kal rising from their seats, their eyes fixed on me. Damn, I never told them about the extra classes.

“Uh, those extra classes? They’re with Bo—Mr. Stiles,” I stammer, scratching my neck under their scrutiny.

“How long have the classes been going on?” Kal’s eyes bore into mine.

“Not long.” I shrug, guardedly.

Kal eyes me a little longer than I’d like, then nods slowly. “Ok. Cool. Call me later,” he says, slapping my shoulder.

Kal’s my confidant, my personal diary. But right now, there are some things I can’t share.

“Yo, who’s going to Thompson’s Thanksgiving party tomorrow night?” Tray’s voice echoes through the classroom, drawing cheers from everyone as they pack up their laptops. “Remember, we’re celebrating Halloween for Thanksgiving. No shit outfits.”

Bohdi scans the room as students filter out. “Remember to stay safe this weekend. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He smirks. His happiness grates on my nerves. Why isn’t he as miserable as I am? Doesn’t he realize how furious I am with him? Clenching my teeth, I leave my desk and stride to the front, chin held high.

“Daxton, can you wait behind, please?” Daxton visibly sighs and stands by his desk, looking awkward as hell.

“I take it if I ask you to leave, you won’t?” Bohdi raises an eyebrow at me.

“Nope.” I smile, settling down at the desk.

“I can’t keep seeing you with your face like that. It’s getting worse, Daxton. I’m going to need to tell the dean.” Bohdi scrutinizes Daxton’s battered face, and even I have to admit, this is the worst I’ve seen him. He can barely see out of one eye.

He exhales, fingertips grazing the raw edges of his face, wincing as they brush over the cuts and bruises. “Not my father,” he mutters.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Mr. Stiles hasn’t met Marley yet,” I interject, rolling my eyes, waiting for Daxton to reveal who Marley is. Bohdi’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on Daxton.

“It wasn’t Marley,” he confesses, head bowed, avoiding eye contact.

“If not your uncle or father, then who?” I scoff, knowing he’s evading the truth. “I tried, Bray,” Daxton’s eyes lock with mine, sorrow and guilt etched in their depths. I furrow my brow, clueless about his hidden words.

“What do you mean, you tried?” I demand, the pieces finally clicking into place.

“Bex. I tried to keep him away from them,” he admits, and realization dawns.

“No. Impossible. I won’t believe it,” I seethe. “My brother wouldn’t do that.” I rise, and Daxton winces as I confront him.

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