Page 30 of Hateful
Wrong. There’s a scraping sound as he pushes his chair back from his desk, and then he’s in front of me, smacking my books out of my hands and down to the floor.
“Answer me!” he snaps, bending down to shove his face close to mine. “Or have you forgotten who you are?”
I glance over at Jasper, who averts his gaze.
“If this is how you debate, then no,” I say quietly. “I don’t think you’ll do well.”
Beck grits his teeth as rage flares up in his eyes. He grabs my upper arms. “Say that to my face.”
“I just did.”
“He’s kind of right,” Jasper says.
Astonished, I look over my shoulder to see Jasper with his textbook open in front of him, casually turning a page. “You’re not very good at debating.”
The class snickers, but a hush falls as Beck shoots them all a look. For a second, I think he’s going to try to make some kind of example of me. His breathing is heavy, his eyes holding me in place like two spikes staking me to where I stand.
But then, just as quickly, he suddenly pulls back.
“Just go,” he growls. He puts his hand on the nape of my neck and shoves me toward my desk as he heads toward his own. I bend down to scoop up my books, but when I glance over my shoulder at Jasper, he’s still not looking at me.
Beyond him, our professor hovers in the doorway, looking unsure of what he should do until Beck has flopped back down in his seat.
I, meanwhile, head to my desk and sit down.
Class proceeds as normal with no more incidents from Beck. But at the end of it, as I’m attempting to leave while minding my own business, he sticks his foot in front of me and trips me. I stumble forward, unbalanced because my backpack isn’t settled all the way on my shoulders, and slam into the doorway instead of going through it.
“Watch your step,” Beck says with a grin. Behind him, both Heath and Jasper share a confused glance.
I glare at them. There’s got to be something they can do to stop him, but neither of them lifts so much as a finger.
“Thanks for the advice,” I snap to Beck, dusting myself off and straightening my backpack. I push through the doorway, leaving The Brotherhood behind, and join the throng of students flowing toward whatever class they have next.
I’m jostled in the hallways a bit, but that’s fine. I’ve lost Beck, and that’s all I really want at the moment. I let myself drift down the hallway, not bothering to look where I’m going or even attempt to steer myself. I just want to get as far away from The Brotherhood as I can.
I finally separate myself from the tide of students somewhere around the entrance hall and pause to get my bearings. It’s past noon, and I have a free period as my last class today, so I’m planning on a nice, long run through the hiking trails. Just thinking about it gets my calves tingling.
I’m actually enjoying my runs now, not just viewing them as a chore to get my butt to go away.
There’s something cathartic about the experience. It’s as if the further I run, the further away I am from Bleakwood and all of its troubles … even if at the end of the day, I always actually end up back inside its walls.
But it seems I won’t be allowed to go, not at least without paying some more penitence first.
“Mr. Trevellian—it’s nice to see you.”
Trying not to roll my eyes, I turn to see Headmistress Robin coming from the direction of the big double doors leading to the courtyard.
I amnotin the mood. I know what she wants, and if I knew how to get it for her, I’d already have it.
“Headmistress.”
The word drops from my lips like a well-intentioned slip of the tongue instead of the insult it’s meant to be.
Her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t correct me. She doesn’t have her entourage of students with her today, only further confirming my suspicions about what she’s here for.
She smiles politely, tips her head, and says, “Have you gotten around to your task yet?”
At least she isn’t wasting any time.
