“But—”
“But nothing, wait outside my office,” he declared, walking toward his office. I hated school, especially on Sundays.
But just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I heard suspicious noises. Footsteps then male chatter.
Shouldn’t school be empty?
I noticed a group of red jerseys from a distance and felt my stomach turn. Football players. Oh no.
“What’s the principal’s son doing here?”
I didn’t know who said it, but it didn’t matter. I was at my locker looking for my headphones when another guy taunted me arrogantly.
“Are you that much a loser that you even come to school on Sundays?”
Other guys started talking to me, but James’s silhouette caught my attention. He shot me a lazy look from far away, but he wasn’t interested in me because he went right back to talking with his friends.
“Well? Does Daddy make you keep watch on this dump?” asked Connell, one of the biggest meatheads in school.
I didn’t answer him. Indifference was the best weapon against guys like that.
Sooner or later they’d stop. At least, I always hoped they would. Jackson was there, too, glued to the lockers with a sweaty forehead and a completely soaked T-shirt. I felt my lips become heavy and my breath get shorter. Whether he was there or not, it never changed anything when they made fun of me. He never moved a finger for me.
“Or maybe you’re here doing homework? All those As aren’t enough for you?”
“If anyone could use a bit of homework, it’s you guys,” I muttered to myself.
“What’d you say?”
Connell weighed twice as much as I did. He was the biggest blowhard because his mom was the school’s biggest donor, but he was a boor without any manners.
“No, well, I was saying, your grades aren’t the best.”
“Did you hear that, Hunter? The principal’s son stuttered something about our academic performance.”
And not to mention when they had to stick together, they always called on the biggest asshole. James left the guy he was busy talking to and turned around to look me up and down. His glance lasted a second, but it was so intense that it washed over me like a cascade of cold water.
“And what the fuck do you know about my grades?” he said, with his deep, scratchy voice.
The blue in his eyes intensified and became so dark that I even forgot who was around me. He could get everyone’s attention with just one gesture, one look. I didn’t know how to answer. My throat closed up.
“Football players aren’t exactly known for their brains. Is that what you mean?” James asked.
“Well . . .”
I was speechless and out of breath, and it was hard to recover either when he came close to my face.
“And having preconceived notions? Is that a synonym for intelligence, Blaze?”
He rounded his tongue to articulate my name with a low, sensual voice.
“No. I mean—”
Before I could make a complete sentence, that asshole Connell came up to me with a tumbler full of a green liquid that they called pre-workout.
“Fuck. How clumsy.”
The sweetish smell of smoothie or maybe a protein shake pierced my nostrils, and when I looked down, my shirt was completely soaked.
