Page 18 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
Nazer gestured toward the front door. “Go ahead and leave your suitcases here. We're just waiting for one more student to arrive and then you can start your first class."
"No orientation?” I asked, as we started to climb the stairs together.
"Not here," she clapped her hands. “We believe in just tossing you right into the fire." Her laugh was a little too manic for my liking. That, combined with the weird smile, changed my opinion of her governess vibe. As did her next words. “I hear you like to pull shit on faculty, Ms. Dunemark. Just be aware, here, the faculty has the authority to pull shit back. So, don’t go stirring the pot. This is your only warning.” I glanced over to see her eyes drilling into me.
I nodded, keeping my face neutral. For once, I didn’t give a crap about the faculty. This place was just another means to an end.
Chapter 9
Ms. Nazer pulledopen the heavy wooden front door. The hinges screeched so badly that I clenched my teeth.Note to self, don’t sneak into or out of the admin building through the door.I eyed the windows. The second floor wasn’t too high. If I did ever need to sneak into the building, after I made it past the lions, those windows looked like they’d be acceptable entry points.
The massive entryway was par for the course at every academy I’ve attended. There was a lot of marble, some giant paintings of magicals in history—guiding Joan of Arc, melting the glaciers and helping people across the Bering Strait, some pompous dead fat dude in a feathered hat that I should have known but didn’t. Overhead hung a chandelier that never got used as the practical wall sconces were all that anyone really needed anyway. But rich people never could get over wasting money on sparkly shit—my mom’s overstuffed jewelry safe was evidence of that.
Nazer gestured to a stairwell at the right and we made our way up a set of carpeted stairs to a hallway full of nondescript offices. Her office had the standard bowl of candy that people who feel insecure put on the desk to bribe you into liking them. She had Werther’s Original in the bowl, so I snagged one.
I sat down in the guest chair the director pointed to while I sucked on the grandma-licious candy. The chair was plain wood, much less opulent than those at posh schools I'd previously attended. And it was set kinda high so that my toes barely touched the ground. I briefly wondered if that was on purpose, to make me feel like a kid, or if the fact that guys outnumbered girls at this reform school eight to one had influenced the furniture choices. I decided the latter must be the reason for the chair.
Nazer grabbed my schedule off a spartan desk and went to hand it to me. As she did, a strange, humming awareness took over my body. Goosebumps rose on my neck and my skin flushed. What the fuck? I turned, and my nose slammed into a guy’s torso.
Eyes watering, I grabbed my nose, trying not to curse as I looked up at whatever freak had just invaded my personal space.
I froze when my eyes crawled up the torso of the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my entire life.
My smarting nose receded to a dull throb in the background as my eyes drank him in. Holy fucknado. I felt like I was back at the entrance gate and caught up in that windstorm. Only, instead of wind blowing through me, it was lust. And instead of feeling cold, it felt like fire. Shit. My mind crumbled to pieces as I tried desperately not to visibly lick my lips.
This guy had bad boy written all over him.
He wore black basketball shorts and a plain white tank top—idiotic choices for February but fucking delicious choices for me. His muscular arms were sleeved in tattoos. Lickable outlines curled across his veined forearms and up his biceps. More tattoos were visible under his shirt and covered his defined pecs. Part of me wanted to ask him to lift up the shirt just so I could see all the designs. Another part of me wanted him to lift up his shirt so I could see if he had the six pack that I imagined he had. And all that smacked me right in the lady bits before I even looked at his face. His face was a punch to the heart.
He had dark brown hair that was buzzed on the sides and a little longer on top. It was styled to the side with gel but was a little sloppy and spiky instead of nice and neat. It was just-fucked hair. My fingers clenched as I brought my hands down from my nose. I loved guys with just-fucked hair. His straight brows shadowed deep brown eyes and a good jawline. His lips were puckered in a hot-as-sin smirk. Something about him reminded me of a lion. He was predatory.
He eyed me appreciatively, his eyes roaming down my body and lingering on my legs. But he didn’t introduce himself. Instead, he shoved a hand in his pocket—not so subtly adjusted his package—and then turned to the admissions director. “Nazer, good to see you.”
Ms. Nazer’s voice was curt. “This is your last shot Kieltyka.”
He leaned forward and gave her a wink as he snagged a hard candy. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.”
Nazer shook her head and shoved his schedule at him. He stuffed it into his pocket and unwrapped the candy, turning to look at me again as he popped it into his mouth. He rolled it on his tongue suggestively until I shifted my eyes away from him. He was obviously an attention whore. I knew how to deal with them. I stared at the window, ignoring him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tilt his head toward Nazer. “How long do you think she’ll last?” he asked her, clearly indicating me.
I stiffened slightly before forcing myself to relax and ignore him.Yup. Can’t stand not having attention.
Nazer just shook her head and pointed at her desk. “Leg up, Zavier.” She unlocked a metal cabinet in the back corner.
“Ms. Nazer,” Zavier’s hand flew to his chest in an exaggeration of innocence. “You know I’m shy! If you wanna see the goods, you gotta ask me when we’re alone.” He batted his eyes at her when she turned around holding an ankle monitor.
“I’d have thought you got enough of showing your goods off in jail.”
Zavier shook his head. “Nobody pretty enough there for me. Nobody as pretty as you.” He smiled up at Ms. Nazer as he swiped a couple more candies from her bowl and put them in his pocket.
I bit down on a chuckle. Dickhead was actually kind of funny.
Ms. Nazer just rolled her eyes and said, “If you don’t want to put your leg out for me, I can ask Coach Lundy to put this on you.”
Zavier tossed his foot up onto her desk immediately. “Way to ruin the mood.”
Nazer deadpanned. “What mood? Annoyed?”
