“Maybe if you paid more attention to coming to school on time, you wouldn't be failing your classes. Idiot.”
Instantly, my eyes snap open at his words. Idiot? Did he just call Aryan an idiot? What? He's a teacher! Only students can call other students idiots.
He looks so smug too, his arms crossed over his stomach as he looks down at Aryan. I'd pay good money to see what Adaline would do to him if she heard that. It's no secret she's fiercely protective of her friends. I mean, she nearly bit my head off when I made that comment about Aryan.
I quite enjoyed it though. I enjoyed having her so furious at me, her hands bunched up in my collar. Damn! Even the thought of it could get me going right now.
“Yes sir,” Aryan says and my eyes snap to him, he doesn't even look bothered.
Mr Moore just ignores him and looks down at his watch. “I'll be back in ten minutes. Keep quiet and don't make any trouble,” he says sternly, his eyes firmly planted on mine.
I make a point to openly roll my eyes at his words and he just scoffs, walking out of class. I wait for the door to completely close before I turn abruptly to Aryan.
“How can you let him talk to you like that?” I ask indecorously.
Seriously, if he spoke to me like that I would have him fired. Not only that, but I would dissect his mediocre life piece by piece until he was absolutely miserable. No one disrespects me. No one.
“How is that any of your business?” His tone is filled with attitude and his jaw clenched.
So, he's the epitome of sunshine with everyone but me? Fair enough. I mean, technically I did make his best friend’s life hell.
“I'm just curious,” I say, shrugging.
He just rolls his eyes and scrolls through his phone, ignoring my words. I don't waver my gaze though, I don't like being ignored and I especially don't like it when people don't answer my questions.
His eyes flicker back and forth from me to his phone, clearly frustrated.
He sighs, finally turning his head to me and I smirk in victory. “His words don't really affect me. I know everyone thinks I'm stupid. Maybe I'm not the smartest person in the room—”
“You're not.” I casually cut him off.
For Pete's sake. I grimace at my words openly. Do I not have an off switch?
He gives me a deadpan look, but he doesn't look that offended, but I feel sort of guilty, which is weird; why would I feel guilty for stating facts? I didn't feel guilty when I called him an imbecile that time, so why is this different?
I clear my throat
. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”
“Yes, it was.” He scoffs. “Maybe I'm not book smart, so who cares? There's more to life than that. There are other ways to be smart and even so, what's so great about being smart?”
He's so self-assured in the way he speaks and I never noticed that before. Or I didn't care enough to notice it. How is he like that? More importantly, I can't even imagine how long it took him to get to this point. He really doesn't care what people think of him?
“So, it really doesn't bother you when people say shit like that to you?” I ask baffled.
He sighs. “It used to when I was younger, especially when kids used to call me more hurtful things like faggot—”
“People called you that?” My tone is shocked. I can't contain the tremble in my tone.
He looks at me as if I just said something so utterly ridiculous and then it clicks in my head; I've literally called his best friend a dyke for years.
Why am I so shocked? Why can I not imagine calling anyone the ‘f’ word, yet I was fine calling Adaline a dyke?
Why am I so messed up?
“Sorry, continue,” I tell him and I swear I see him stifling a smile.
Two apologies in the span of two minutes? What is happening to me?
