Page 18 of The Surprise Play
But of course I freeze, my muscles going rigid as I grip my coffee and steal a quick glance over my shoulder.
Wily Wilson?
I start to pivot.
What are you doing?
Don’t pivot! Run!
But nope, I’m pivoting. Maybe it’s morbid curiosity, I don’t really know, but I am turning to face this dragon.
And when I end my spin and take in the giant blond charging toward me, I’m doused with instant regret.
He comes to a stop a few feet away, his eyes flashing wildly. “Remember me?”
“Yes.” My voice is so tiny, I’m sure he can’t even hear it.
Seriously, why am I not dropping my coffee and making a run for it?
I’ve never been approached by a hurricane like this before, and for some reason, I can’t move.
The bullies I usually put up with are all smarmy smiles and cutting comments.
This is just outright rage… or maybe it’s frustration. There is a difference. I think.
Biting my bottom lip, I watch him take another huffing step toward me, then plant his massive feet so he can tower over me with his glacial glare.
“Uh…” I shuffle a few steps back. “Can I help you with something?”
Ugh! Lamest thing to say. Ever.
My eyes dart back to his shoes, and my brain decides to try work out his size. He must be a 12 or 13. Wowzers. I’m in a size 6, which means his feet are twice as big as mine.
“You could have,” he snaps, grabbing my attention. My eyes dart back up to his angry face. “I asked. I practically fucking begged. I even offered to pay you, and youjust walked away. Fed me to the fucking wolves, and now I’m screwed!” He flicks his arms up and I jolt, each barked syllable feeling like a hit to the face.
“Um. You’re… screwed? I don’t?—”
“I failed my assignment!” He leans down, getting in my face.
I take a nervous step back.
“Shit, I thought you were a genius.”
“I’m not a genius,” I agree quietly, confused by why he would even think that.
“Now I’m going to flunk that class, which means I won’t have enough credits to graduate.”
“Wait, wasn’t the assignment due yesterday? How do you know your grade already?”
“He skimmed it and then refused to grade it.” Wily huffs, resting his hands on his hips and starting to pace. “He told me it’s an instant fail.”
“Is he even allowed to do that? Why would he refuse?”
“I don’t know,” Wily grumbles. “Something about choosing Moby Dick for my character analysis.”
“Wait, you…” I blink, then have to bite my lips together for a second. “You chose… Moby Dick?”
“Yeah, he’s the main character, isn’t he? But Professor Pain in my Ass got all shitty, going on about human experience and how it relates to me and my life. I mean, what the actual fuck!”
