Page 131 of No Rules

“The jury has reached its decision, Ms. Foster. The defense doesn’t agree with it, but an appeal might be perilous. Stop hanging on to this case.”

I’m not hanging on to a case, I’m hanging on to a man, damn it! We’re talking about his future.

“I don’t agree,” I finally continue.

My teacher squints, annoyed. “I’m asking you to sit down immediately.”

“Mikael Larey wasn’t even defending himself! That’s not what your colleague had planned, is it? They didn’t find his fingerprints on the gun that killed his wife, nor on his daughter, but he was discredited because what he said was misunderstood. I’m sure there’s something missing, something in the investigation that was missed! It’s not right.”

My voice is louder than I wanted it to be. Most eyes are on us. I almost regret getting carried away, but there it is. Mrs. Richards stares at me with her ravenous gaze, as if she is about to cut me into little pieces. I swallow hard but don’t flinch.

“Get out of the classroom,” she orders me harshly.

I don’t look down. I’ve probably just screwed up my semester by yelling at her instead of sitting down like a nice student. My instincts, however, tell me that I did the right thing. I nod silently then add, “Perfect. Have a good day.”

Tucker sits up straight in his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. He’ll soon realize I just screwed up. Maybe she’ll penalize us in the grades because of me. I shake my head to order him to stay seated.

I’m in the middle of the steps when someone calls my name. “Miss Foster?”

I freeze and turn toward the podium once more. Mrs. Richards purses her mouth as she looks at me. “I’ll see what I can do. Now sit down.”

I close my eyes for a second, holding back a sigh of satisfaction. Thank you, Mrs. Richards.

***

Tucker

I glance over at Iris, who is sitting a few rows in front of me. She seemed to have been in the middle of a confrontation with Mrs. Richards before she kicked her out of class and then changed her mind. We all know how this teacher doesn’t back down from her decisions. Yet, it sure looks like she did for Iris.

What earthquake has this little piece of work created again?

When class ends, I hurry to follow her. I reach the lobby of A-Wing and look around for her. Why does she always have to disappear like that? I see her about twenty yards away, at the entrance of a corridor, slipping a bill into the vending machine. I walk towards her. My attention is entirely taken by this redhead, as if I can’t see anything but her hot little body.

Pull yourself together, man, shit.

She slips a can of coke into her bag and then lifts her head before turning to the glass door that has just opened. Her eyes suddenly cloud over, and I stand still, curious. Matt enters the room. He puts away a pack of cigarettes with one hand while consulting his cell phone with the other. Feeling a glance on him, he raises his eyes and sees Iris.

I don’t want that little shit looking at her. I don’t even want him to breathe the same air as her. She’s mine.

I’m seized with a murderous urge when he winks at her with a mocking pout as he walks by. My breath catches.

Matt walks towards me without noticing me. I shift a few steps as he continues ahead, eyes on his screen, toward the bathroom on my right. Iris still hasn’t seen me either. She stares at his back, looking glum, and absentmindedly rubs her arm with a glare, as if she’s thinking back to a bad memory.

My blood runs cold. I know exactly what her fingers are on. The bruise I saw in my car on Friday. What the hell is this?

She and Matt? Or am I going crazy and making connections between things that have nothing to do with each other?

And as if my anger still needed to be fed, I feel a new wave of hatred surge through me.

I turn around and walk to the bathroom, a little evil smile plastered on my face as I think about what I’m going to do to this fucker.

I push the door open. A guy is washing his hands. The second person in the room is faced away from me, but I know it’s Matt. He’s standing at the urinal, humming a Drake song.

I walk past the guy washing his hands and mutter to him, “No one comes in.” I say.

He opens his eyes wide but quickly recognizes me. He nods sharply and hurries out of the room as if he’s on fire.

I lean against the wall opposite the urinal and cross my arms over my chest.

---