The Truth About Kian

10. Next the walls were closed on me

:: C H A P T E R  T E N | NEXT THE WALLS WERE CLOSED ON ME ::

I spent the next morning in a tired, bleary haze, drifting from one class to the next. Jules was especially amused when he caught me napping in Calculus during second period.

"Partied hard last night?" he asked as I shook myself awake.

"Hardly," I snapped unhappily. "I was working on the article."

He winked at me knowingly, not at all unhappy that I hadn't included him in my outing. Jules had long since resigned himself to staying home on Sunday nights. "Whatever you say, Reed."

I grunted and closed my eyes again. I wasn't the biggest fan of math.

In third period — history — Liam slid into the desk beside me. "Did you call me last night?" he asked without preamble.

I winced, inwardly curing myself for my stupidity last night. "I hit the wrong button. Sorry."

"My number's in your phone?" He sounded oddly delighted.

"Only in the call history," I mumbled as the bell rang and Mr. Weese, walked to the front of the classroom.

"Did you need me for something?" Liam hissed in my ear. I noticed with surprise that he remained in his spot beside me, ignoring the strange looks that the other Inheritors were sending his way.

I shook my head, focusing on Mr. Weese who clapped his hands together. "So guys, as most of you know — or should know because I'm getting paid to teach you, not put you to sleep — we've been discussing prominent historical figures whose lives ended rather tragically." He gestured to the list of names on the board. "Anne Boleyn, Napoleon, John Dudley, to name a few. What do they all have in common? Well, all of them were ambitious and they achieved great power. But they all fell very far."

I bet my lip when I felt Liam's eyes on me. I wished he would stop staring; we'd already started enough rumours.

"Hopefully, I've given you enough information to make this a painless experience as I'd like us to begin on our research assignment: create a report on an ambitious historical person whose life ended in tragedy." Mr. Weese grinned at us. "Partner up."

I groaned. With his quirky but clever way of teaching, ever-present argyle sweaters and crooked wire-rimmed glasses, Mr. Weese was my favourite teacher, but I hated how he favoured group projects. I always ended up alone (history and French were the only two classes that I didn't share with Jules) or with a partner who hated me.

"So, partner," said Liam calmly. "Who do you want to research?"

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he snickered, rolling his eyes. "I was talking to the invisible person behind you."

"Okay." I kept my eyes on the board because it was easier than looking at Liam. I was already afraid that I was beet red. And I was afraid that he actually did want to work with me — and that I wanted to work with him, too.

"Who do you want to do, Reed?"

I choked, trying to ignore the images that my traitorous brain conjured up. "I thought that you were partners with the invisible person behind me," I said sarcastically to cover up my embarrassment.

"You're prettier than the invisible person."

Involuntarily, I glanced at him. Our eyes met, and I felt my cheeks redden. I wanted to be wary around Liam. I didn't want to trust him, but I hated how his beautiful cobalt eyes cut straight through my defences. I had to be smart, I had to trust Bo because that's how it worked. Have nots stuck together.