Page 16 of A Dead Man's B-Side
“We have finally made it to senior year. The last year before I’m finally free of you. So, let's give it our best.”
I listened as his deep voice fizzled out, and, with his back to us, he settled his briefcase atop his desk.
He turned to face the class, going to lean against this desk, when his eyes met mine.
Maybe on instinct.
Maybe out of habit.
The grin he’d been sporting only moments prior seemed to slide off his face like wet mud. A bad analogy, but the only one I could find with my mind running through a thousand different scenarios.
My heart spiked in a panic at the foggy memory of blue eyes, and I could have jumped up and run out of the class had my body not been so frozen in place.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath, though I didn’t dare let it out once I did. I could hear my lungs fighting for oxygen, getting louder in my ears like drums during a battlefield.
It couldn’t be possible.
Itwasimpossible.
The moment only lasted barely a few seconds, I’m assuming, but it felt like an eternity before he, almost as if in a trance, turned back to the board with a conflicted look, and wrote his name and date on the top corner.
Only then did I break my own eye contact, and only then did my mind catch up to me.
I was sure no one had noticed, but in the corner of my eye, a boy who’d chosen the back row as well, shifted his head slightly to the side in a slow movement. Probably to avoid gaining my attention, though he failed spectacularly.
It was the same boy from yesterday.
Wolf Kingsley.
He watched me for a few moments before turning his gaze back to the front, and I didn’t bother giving him any of my attention or any more reason to speculate on anything, even in the slightest.
I forced my muscles to release the tension coiling them together before focusing on what was written in chalk on the board.
Mr Browne
What a plain lie.
“This is Law 400.” He slipped back into character with ease. “We’ve lost a few soldiers throughout our time together, but I’mhoping to see youallgraduate with ‘LAW 400’ on your transcript. A grade over ninety percent would be much appreciated.”
He said the last bit in a hushed tone that wasn’t meant to be quiet, more humorous, and the class let out a collective chuckle.
“So, let us begin with a quick attendance, and then we’ll get into the good stuff.”
He made the rounds, calling on each student until he reached the boy next to me. “Wolf Kingsley.”
“Here,” he said, sending a furtive glance my way.
His voice was deep and gruff, his accent clearly American, but even as his name was called, I didn’t give him the attention he seemed to be looking for. Someone else did, however. A girl at the front, who I’d learned her name through attendance, was Rain Atlas Jett.
She was good at hiding it, though. She threw her long black hair over her shoulder and turned to reach for something in her bag before flicking her eyes over him in a barely-there once-over. And then, as gracefully as I’d ever seen, she turned to the front, crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands on her desk. Her poised and balanced posture closely resembled a revered sculpture.
I hadn’t realized I’d been in a trance of my own making until I heard a louder than usual, “Alexandr Mirolsav.”
I jumped and turned my attention to Mr Browne, giving him a quick and firm “Here.”
He paused instead of continuing, and that was when my heart plummeted, knowing nothing good could come from hismoment of silence. He always did have a flair for the dramatics. But I could feel my body heat rising from what was coming, and I would rather not be at the unfortunate end of it.
“Is that a Polish name?” He inquired with a curious look and a tilt of his head.
