Vicious Love (Barrington Heights #1) (6 page)

“Hey, can I mooch a piece of paper off of you?”

“Yea, sure. Just hold on a—oh, fuck me.”

I finally focused in on the face of the person next to me, and I’m not shitting you, it was Claire.

“Hey, Claire! How you been? Sorry for shooting you down last night, but you weren’t in any condition to be—“

“Stop. Stop now.” She’d interrupted me mid-sentence! How rude!

I was about to get defensive when she slipped me a note.

“Uhm, Claire. You can always just text me.” I looked at the note, bewildered and uncertain on how to open it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I could read in this state. The pot and the Adderall mixed too hard and I was tripping major shit.

“Just shut up and read it after class.” She shot me a dirty look, and I shook my head in agreement with her. Her eyes met mine and she looked away. Damn, she had beautiful eyes. When she looked back at mine again, I realized they were even more amazing when they held anger as she glared at me. “Are you fucking high?” she asked.

Uncertain on how to respond, I just turned away and stared straight ahead. “I’m afraid of her,” I said on complete accident.
That was supposed to stay in my head! Shit!

“Excuse me? Did you just say that you’re scared of me? How am I scary? I opened up to you yesterday, and you call me scary?” Her face was flushed with anger.

I had no choice but to swallow my pride and say something I would probably come to regret in the future, if not immediately. “You scare me because you’re beautiful, and I’m not sure how to react to that.”
Dammit. Look what you did now. Fucking idiot.

Claire’s eyes grew wide, and she looked as if she might cry. Quickly, Claire turned away. She looked back at me a couple of times and I sat there looking at her with a dumb expression on my face. I was way too high to deal with this.

“Do you mean that?” she asked.

I have to say no. If I say yes, then she’ll start to think that I have feelings for her. Say no. No. It’s simple—just say no. No.
“Yes.”
Fuck!

“Well. I’m sorry that I accused you of being high.” With that, she moved away. 

I refocused on the lesson at hand but noticed that Claire kept looking at me. I didn’t know what to do. She was freaking me out.

The lesson was a simple introduction to what we would be going over for this year. The teacher, Mr. Grayson, was a more exciting teacher than his peers. I’d had him for English my freshman year before he’d received a promotion up to the senior class. Proper sentence structure, how to write college papers, etc. You know, that bullshit. All the while, though, Claire kept on glancing back at me. I couldn’t tell why. Hell, I could hardly think at that moment, but she was. I don’t believe she noticed that I caught her, because she didn’t stop doing it. Maybe she knew that I was tripping major balls, or maybe she thought that I was looking at her. I wasn’t sure, but there was one thing that I did find out. Her pupils were expanded. Not the amount to be high, but they were dilated.

Class took forever to get over with, or maybe that was because my head was pounding from coming down. It didn’t matter. What did matter, however, was that I could finally leave and go to psychology. I’d been looking forward to this class for three whole years, and now, in my senior year, I’d made it. I hadn’t signed up for any simple psychology class. Rather, I’d signed up for the ‘big kahuna.’ AP psychology was the hardest class at Barrington High School, and I was going in headfirst.

As I was heading out of the class, I almost ran into someone. I looked up to see who it was, and lo and behold, it was
her.
“Fuck.”

chapter 10

jennet

“Fuck,” came from the boy in front of me, and I was just about to scold him out when I noticed who it was.

Christopher Wells. Christopher fucking Wells.

I just looked at him for a second. Into his dark-brown—or were they black?—eyes and saw everything. I saw his pain, his suffering, his courage, and his compassion. Almost instantaneously, I saw everything about Chris, and everything about him brought me to the verge of tears. Never before had I been taken aback by just the mere look into another’s eyes. Never before had I been so overwhelmed by such a glance. And never again would I experience this. I changed. This changed me. And it all happened in an instant

“Christopher, please don’t use that type of language. It’s impolite, and it’s not allowed. You could get in serious trouble for that. I should report you.” I was staring into his eyes now, and he was returning my stare. 

I was entranced. My legs felt numb, and I could hardly breathe. My heart was racing, and my stomach was fluttering. His stare was cold and harsh. It seemed as if he were lost. Not lost in thought, but actually lost—physically lost. Lost for words? No, couldn’t be. Lost in thought? I’d already decided against it. All I knew was that he was lost, so he must have been lost in something. Lost in something, but what?

“Then, by all means, do something about it.” Chris’s tone was different than before. Something was wrong.

Time seemed to stand still as we studied each other. He was waiting for me to do something—to report him, maybe, or something else. Something else? What else could there be but to report him?

“I guess not.” His gray words went out quickly and sharply and were colored with a black and ominous tone.

His words hurt me, but I didn’t know why. They were only words, and I’d been told far worse from others. Others who were supposed to love and support me. My parents, my friends, my fiancé—their words had all cracked into my conscience and left their marks, yet they had been nothing like this. Not the pain, but the meaning behind them. His words, Chris’s words, had not been meant to hurt or to control but, rather, to explain. I didn’t know why they’d affected me like they had, but the simple truth was that they had.

“Just…” I hesitated. I had no clue what to do.
Do I report him, or do I let it go?
Why am I even thinking about this?
He’s a student! I have to report him.
But all that came out next was, “Just come with me.”

“Absolutely.” He spoke without ever taking his eyes away from mine.

That made me shudder. Chris had this certain…aura around him that drew people in all while pushing them away. It was strange to say the least—and stranger still why I would treat him like this.

“Good. This way.” I had no clue where I was going, but I was going there and I was going to do something. I just didn’t know what.

“So, you’re clearly not going to report me,” he muttered too close to my ear, just above my right shoulder. I thought my knees might buckle if he did that again.

I turned my head to look at him, and this time, I caught him off guard. Not wanting to waste a second while having the upper hand, I said, “How do you know that?” I was hoping to catch him with that question, because maybe he hadn’t been expecting it.

“You’re going the wrong way.” Chris was smirking now, clearly content with his control over the situation.

I, however, was horrified of losing control of a situation. Especially one where I had no clue whatsoever about what I was doing or what my intentions were. This kid confused me so much, and he hardly had to say anything at all. It was very infuriating.

“Maybe I’m going a different way than what you think.”
That was a lousy excuse for a misdirection, Jennet.

“Whatever you say. While we’re waiting for what you’re planning to do, why don’t we go over when you can help me with your class?” I nodded. “Great! I’m going to have to recant
“
—Recant—I haven’t heard that word in a while—
“what I said earlier about sometime this week. I have business plans I can’t miss. How about we choose a date next week, and we’ll hope that one of us, most likely myself, can make it?”

Sounds reasonable enough.
He didn’t seem to be flirting this time either. Good. I’d been worried about him flirting and not knowing what to do about it.

“Sounds like a plan. What do you have in mind?”

We ended up standing in the doorway of an empty class. People were passing in the hallway next to us, but no one was paying attention. At least it seemed like that. Chris leaned on the wall in front of me and ran a hand through his charcoal-black hair before continuing the conversation. He took a second to look at me, then at the hall, and then back to me. I couldn’t tell if he was thinking of what to say, trying to look cool, or just being himself. Anyway, it didn’t matter, because after only a second, he turned back to me and responded.

“Today is Tuesday and I don’t have your class. That means that, next week, I’ll have your class on Tuesday and Thursday. I hardly ever do anything on either of those days after school, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. Wh
at does work best for you, Miss Beaumont?” He noticed my engagement ring, which I’d forgotten to wear yesterday, and quickly changed his response. “Soon to be Mrs.” Chris just smiled and waited for my response.

“Tuesday or Thursday will work for me.” I had to keep things short and simple here. I needed to get away from him. He was too formal and different from yesterday, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Chris didn’t scare me, but he intrigued me too much, which was more dangerous than anything else.

“Perfect. We’ll decide which date works better on Friday and take it from there.” Another smile. Another flash of his perfect white teeth and another show of his charming dimples.

His entire body was showing signs of relaxation and comfort. His body language was open and friendly. It would make someone who wasn’t trained in reading body language feel welcome. Even someone who was trained, like myself, would be easily fooled by his body language. He didn’t seem to have a visible tell, but something gave him away. I never would have noticed it either if we hadn’t caught each other by surprise. It was his eyes.

His eyes, unlike his body, didn’t show signs of warmth. Rather, they showed signs of pain. Complete soul-wrenching pain that drowned out all hope in his eyes. They were darker than before. They were colder than before. What could possibly be the cause of this? I tried to bite my tongue and not intrude, but I couldn’t help myself. Something was pulling me in, and I just couldn’t fight it.

“Christopher, are you all right?”

His body changed in half a second, and his eyes cleared immediately after that. “Completely fine.” He laughed. “Why do you ask?”

Why had I asked? I didn’t understand why I’d asked him that. He seemed perfectly fine, and I had no evidence otherwise. So why would I have asked him that?

“Just making sure.” I stalled a bit to think of an excuse. “You just seem tired is all.” That works.

“Thank you for checking, but I feel great. I’m not even tired.”

Everything in his eyes showed otherwise now. It was almost as if he’d changed them on command, but that’s impossible. I hadn’t heard of a single person who could manipulate their body language like that. A person’s eyes were supposed to be their weak spot because they couldn’t change them.

“Okay, good.” I smiled at him, and he blushed a little. Nothing noticeable by normal means, but I was focusing in on him more than I would usually focus on a student. I was focusing in on him even more than I do my fiancé. Barry, however, couldn’t hide his body language, but I still paid the most attention to him. Or, at least, I had until now.

“If that’s everything, Miss Beaumont, I’ll be going. I have a class to get to.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Of course.” He turned to leave, but I stopped him. “Do you need a pass, Christopher?” Anything to keep him here for a second longer.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

My attempt had failed, and I felt awful immediately after that. I wanted to talk to him more, to examine him more, to learn more about him.

“Oh, and Miss Beaumont.” His voice shot hope through my body. “Have a nice day.”

That’s it? “Have a nice day?”
No, I need more than that. He hadn’t shown any interest in me this time. He had been all business. Last time, Chris had been flirting nonstop with me. Was it my ring? Had Chris stopped flirting because he’d seen my ring? Maybe next time, I wouldn’t wear it.

What is wrong with you, Jennet?
I thought to myself.
Why are you reacting like this to a near stranger? Plus, you’re engaged. You chose to play the safe card, so you chose Barry. You made the commitment, so stop this. Stop it now.

My conscience was right. I couldn’t think like this, especially about a student. It’s illegal, and I was engaged. I shouldn’t have been worried about Chris any more than I would worry about any other student. I was twenty-six for heaven’s sake. He was probably seventeen or eighteen. Way too young for me, and completely inappropriate. I had never done something inappropriate before, and I wasn’t willing to start now.
I must stay professional and loyal. Both to my profession as a teacher and to my future husband as a wife.

I walked to my classroom feeling content with myself. My logic was whole, and I knew that I could control myself. I might have just asked Chris a simple question, but I’d almost gone too far; I’d almost dug too deep. Questions like that and the thoughts I’d had would only lead to worse and deeper things. Like how marijuana is a gateway drug, those thoughts were a gateway to something else. To other, deeper things. Dark questions and emotional attachment that I could not have. 

I’d left my emotional attachments behind in service to Barry. I’d uprooted my life there and come here for Barry. Barry was my fiancé and he meant everything to me. Why else would I have left everything I’d come to love behind? It couldn’t have been the pressure from my parents. I had already gone against them before when I’d moved away to New York against their wishes. It couldn’t have been the ultimatum Barry had given me, the one I knew I had pushed him to—marry him or leave him. I was the creator of my own destiny, and I’d made the decision I’d wanted. I loved Barry, and he loved me. That was enough to keep me happy.

I reached the door to my class and went inside. It was the fourth block and I only had one class left to go before I could go home and unwind. Before I could take a bubble bath with candles and indulge in the chocolates Barry had given me last night as a gift. Richart Chocolates, the Envol ballotin assortment—some of the most delicious things I had ever tasted in my life and a tradition Barry had kept since our first date. They just melted in my mouth as the rich, sweet, yet salty taste indulged my every sense. At $120 per pound, they were worth it. The assortment contains every type of delightful and elegant piece anyone would expect and some they wouldn’t. The aroma alone could launch one’s body into a mind-altering, body-shaking foodgasm. Wave after wave of delight would just wash over me. That could keep any girl happy. Ecstatic even. That was how Barry made up for what he lacked in the bedroom. Damn, did he give me the best foodgasms.

My daydream of finally being able to relax was, unfortunately, interrupted by the bell signaling for class to start. I looked around the room at the different faces and tried to pick out the people I’d seen before. Not met, but seen before. There was one student in the middle of the class who seemed familiar. A girl, about five foot five, with brown hair, paler skin, and large, round, brown eyes. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen her before, but for some odd reason, I recognized her. Before I could sidetrack myself with even more useless pondering, I took attendance, trying to pay maximum attention to the girl in the middle.

“Crystal Ashburn?” I asked, starting off attendance.

A young girl, blond, raised her hand from the back of the class. “Yeah, I’m here,” she said, almost mumbling.

“Tiffany Bakers?” Once again, I scanned the room, trying to make it look like I wasn’t watching the brunette in the middle of the class.

A hand rose in the front. “Present,” she said. Quite a bubbly girl.

“Jacob Butler?” A male’s name, obviously not the girl in the middle.

“I go by Jake, but I’m here,” he said without raising his hand.

I marked down his nickname and kept going. “Okay, is Audrey Dozier here?”

This time, the girl from the middle’s hand went up. Audrey Dozier, a French last name like mine. That could be a conversation starter for later.

“I’m here,” she spoke.

I completed the rest of the attendance sheet and marked down everyone’s nicknames, if they had any, and who was absent. Such was the way of being a teacher. After all of that was settled, I went through my papers and set up my routine for this class. Nothing special, the normal first-day stuff, but this time, I wanted to make sure to get everyone involved in the ‘get to know each other’ conversation about economics. Primarily to figure out who this Audrey Dozier was and where I remembered her from.