I do believe I hate Austin Michaels.
Chapter Seven
The bell rings, and I longingly watch the rest of my classmates file from the room, inexplicably eager to sit for another hour in an uncomfortable chair surrounded by insufferable boys such as the one beside me. The main door opens again, and I meet my cousin’s eye. Cat checks the watch I complimented her on this morning and mouths the words let’s go, but I shake my head. I cannot leave—though nothing would make me happier—thanks in large part to the embodiment of evil who has joined me in front of the instructor’s desk looking annoyingly unaffected and quite honestly, bored.
Is it possible he genuinely does not care about being in trouble?
Miss Edwards finishes scribbling a note and flicks her amber gaze up at the two of us. A sense of familiarity washes over me, but then she says in a clearly frustrated tone, “You know, I had hoped my first class would go a tad more smoothly.”
Distressed, I shove my hair out from behind my ear in an attempt to shield my face. I lower my lashes and see Austin shuffling his feet.
Hmm, perhaps he is nervous.
When I lift my head, Austin is watching me, a strange, almost soft look in his eyes. It does even stranger things to my stomach.
Austin holds my gaze for a long moment before turning to our teacher. “Look, Miss E., it really was my fault. I was just messing with the new kid.” He tosses her an impish grin. “Didn’t Mrs. Spano clue you in on how exasperating I can be?”
More shocking than him taking the full blame for the incident is him taking any of it. For the last forty-odd minutes, I have rehashed and relived every horrifying moment, coming to the sad conclusion that the disruption was entirely my doing. No one else seemed disturbed by Austin’s boorish actions, nor did anyone else feel the need to fling his pen across the room. That was all me. But it does not mean I plan to hinder his surprising act of gallantry now.
Chivalry may not be dead in this era, after all.
Austin’s long lashes sweep across his cheekbones, and I turn to our young instructor, wondering if his bewitching magic can work on her as well. She tilts her head to the side and purses her lips, then slides her gaze to me. “Miss Forlani?”
Wrinkling my nose, I stare at her blankly, knowing the name sounds familiar but unable to place it. She consults a sheet of paper on her desk with a raised eyebrow. “You are Alessandra Forlani, correct?”
Fiddlesticks.
“Oh, yes! That is me—Alessandra Forlani.” I bob a curtsy, and two different sets of eyes narrow in my direction.
Oops.
Flustered and fervently wishing my cousin could send me just a dash of her confidence and possibly a few words from her quick tongue, I push on. “I—I recently transferred here. From Florence. And I’m staying with the Crawford family. Beautiful family, really, and their home is quite splendid, filled with such enchanting things I never would have thought possible. It is amazing—”
I cut off here, realizing my rambling is only causing more harm. At least I did squeak in a contraction.
Miss Edwards squints at me long enough for my heart to threaten to stop beating altogether, but then the lines on her forehead smooth out, and she nods. Austin, however, turns his torso more toward me, continuing his quiet scrutiny with clear, shrewd eyes.
If he had but devoted such attention to the lecture, perchance we would not be in this predicament.
Trying my best to ignore him, I go to shove my hair from behind my ear and notice it already is. Instead, I brush it behind my shoulder, then fidget with the folds in my skirt.
“Wow, Florence,” Miss Edwards says, studying me with impressed focus. “Glad to hear you’re settling in. I hope you’ll like it here, though I can imagine it’s a big change.”
Feeling Austin’s perceptive gaze still on me, I offer a small smile, trying not to convey just how big a change it truly is.
The instructor sighs. Sliding her glasses off with one hand, she pinches the bridge of her nose with the other and says, “Alessandra, it’s like this. It’s the beginning of a new semester—and for you, a new experience in a new country. I don’t know if Austin just has a unique talent for challenging patience, or if things were different in your old school, but I can’t have interruptions like that in my class. And—” She lifts a hand at Austin. “Before you argue, Mr. Michaels, I’m not only talking about the pen and the book. There was palpable tension radiating from the pair of you for the remainder of the hour, distracting the students around you and, quite frankly, me.”
She shuffles through a stack of papers on her desk, obviously searching for something, and I meet Austin’s eyes, knowing my own are filled with panic. His lips twitch into a semblance of a smile at the same time his bright blue eyes seem to say, it will be all right. And for some reason, my frantic pulse eases.
Then the instructor speaks again.
“It’s no secret that this is my first teaching job, and I would like to begin it on a good note. A mentor advised during my student teaching that when two people clash as quickly and strongly as the two of you, there are a couple options I can take to ensure incidents like this don’t happen again: I can either separate you or force you to work together.”
The hint of reassurance in Austin’s intense gaze vanishes as he laughs. “And when you say student teaching, do you really mean kindergarten?”
Although that particular word was not included in Cat’s teenspeak list, I can decipher from the condescension in his tone and the tensing of Miss Edwards’s fingers that Austin’s comment was not at all helpful.
“Make all the jokes you want, Mr. Michaels, but I believe I’m here to do more than teach government. I didn’t become a teacher to just open a text book and regurgitate information about a subject that you, of all people, already know so much about.”
A muscle in his jaw clenches and his gaze sharpens. They share a brief, mysterious look. I glance back and forth between them, frowning, knowing I am missing something important, and wishing I had paid better attention to the lecture.
What could Austin know so much about?
“I think I’m also here to teach life skills,” she continues. “To get you ready for college and life in the great beyond. So, knowing that, I’ve decided to go with the latter kindergarten principle. Here’s your first lesson.”
She holds out a paper, which Austin makes no move to take. Reluctantly, I grab the sheet, noting Modern-Day Leadership written in bold letters at the top…a subject I know nothing about.
“As of now, the two of you are partners for our first class project. Congratulations! All the particulars are included on the sheet, it is due in two weeks, and you’re more than welcome to come to me—together as a team—with any questions before then. With an entire weekend stretching before you, may I suggest you get a head start?”
I blink and Austin rubs the back of his neck. Behind us, a stream of students pours through the open door, preparing for the next class, and I catch sight of Cat standing just outside, looking rather impatient. If we do not leave now, we will both be late for our next class. I swallow and grasp the paper tighter.
“Thank you, ma’am. I shall look forward to completing the assignment.”
Austin chokes on a laugh, and I shoot him a look of death. His presumed humor is decidedly not advantageous.
Miss Edwards nods her dismissal, and Austin follows me through the door. Leaning close to my ear as we enter the hallway, he says, “Looks like you got some work to do.”