Shrugging, I cross my legs to hide the fact that I’ve slipped myhand into my pocket to feel the smooth surface of my lighter. “I have nothing to say.”
He hums to himself, pinching his brows together as if bemused. His flare for dramatics rivals Blaze’s. “I received the same feedback from your teachers. In fact, they had some interesting things to say. Do you know what they’re saying?”
My father would crush a man like him without even moving his pinky. His poor attempt at playing politics is laughable. “You’re going to tell me anyway.”
He purses his lips but continues, “They tell me there is only one person you interact with inside the classroom—but I’ve been advised she has been the one picking on you. Also, they find your relationship with Liam outside of class interesting.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me, how did your friendship with Liam start?”
“He asked to hang out. I said yes.” That’s quite literally the start and the end of the story. The skinny, ghoul-looking kid saw my tattoos, glanced at the lighter, and asked if I was a snitch. I said no; he said he and some friends hang out off campus tochillif I wanted to hang out. Leaving school property to get high sounds precisely like the klepto’s thing to do. So, after a prompt “yes,” we were behind the church, and I was face-to-face with Blaze. He’s been my “in” ever since.
“Yet you turned down Sarah when she asked you to prom.” He says it like a question rather than a statement.
Sarah Lawrence is a snitch. Noted.
“Your point?”
He narrows his eyes just a fraction before adopting a more blase composure. “How’s Miss Whitlock treating you? Outside of class,that is.”
After class? He doesn’t want the answer to that one. Neither he nor Blaze needs to know that last night wasn’t the first time I found myself in her room. So, I settle for an easy “Amicable.”
“You and I are both aware of what she’s been accusing you of.”
You and half the school.
I nod.
He scrutinizes every inch of me, and I do the same to him, analyzing his crow’s feet and the knockoff Givenchy tie. “Do you have anything to add about it?”
“Do I need a lawyer?” I counter.
Any semblance of friendly comradery disappears from his face and tone. “Your father expressed concerns about you and Marie’s acquaintance. He was unaware that you had some kind of relationship with her, and is rightfully worried about the influence someone like Blaze might have on you.” Everyone’s persistence in using every name but her first irks me—her grandfather’s doing, I’m sure. She’s Blaze when she needs to be demoralized, and Marie or Miss Whitlock when they need to feign respect. “I’m sure you understand that men your age can be very impressionable to beautiful young women.”
Keeping my features neutral, I grip the lighter in my pocket. I don’t like this degenerate’s choice of words to describe Blaze, and Iespeciallydon’t like how he says them.
I haven’t figured out why he has an interest in Blaze, though I understand the logic in linking me with heraccusations, as he puts it.
Something about it doesn’t sit right with me, and I can’t pinpoint why. I don’t trust McGill, and that’s the only reason I haven’t done anything to land Blaze’s ass in solitary, where he has easier access to her. There, no one would care if she screamed.
The silence stretches between us when he finally says, “I was willing to give your lack of response a slide the last time I asked you. Now that you’re settled in and the first day jitters are gone, tell me more about your relationship with Marie.”
The lighter digs into the palm of my hand. She isn’t an old fucking woman, and that’s not her goddamn name.
“Nothing to tell.”
His exhale reaches me from across the desk. “That’s clearly not the case, now is it? You may have had your parents fooled, but nothing happens in this school without me knowing. I hear about the way you watch that girl.”
It’s becoming increasingly hard to stop from lunging forward and slamming his head on the table. He needs to keep her name out of his mouth before I do it for him. “In case you missed it, she threatened to shiv me.”
“And you believe it?”
“She thinks I burned her house down,” I explain. The man is like a bloodhound.
“That may be so, however, we both know that wasn’t the look I was referring to.”
“Spell it out.”
