Chapter 13: Taking Charge

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I couldn't track Reese down before lunch was over because, honestly, I'm not even sure where to look. So my mind remained distracted by him and the rumors for the rest of the day.

A few girls in the locker room giggled and whispered behind their hands, stealing glances at me while I slipped on my white school issue gym t-shirt and blue shorts. My mind urged me to ignore them while my mouth had an intense case of word vomit,

'Need something,' I demanded one of them when her eyes lighted to mine. She shook her head and their whispers were suddenly nonexistent.

Gym sailed by, as did chemistry, but time became sluggish during psychology. Mr. Herkabe had been asked to sub for Mrs. Ridley, who was out pregnant.

Goody.

He showed zero interest in me, though. Not like Malcolm, who failed to get my attention the whole class period despite his best efforts. Herkabe called him out on it; he made Malcolm read aloud, ridiculing him every time he mispronounced a syndrome. Unlike the rest of the class, I didn't laugh. Mad or not, Herkabe is an asshat.

I waited for everyone else to leave after the final bell. Herkabe called me up to his desk when the room was almost empty. Malcolm stood in the doorway. I didn't look at him as I approached the teacher.

"Your 'project'"--yes, he actually used air quotes--"is with Mr. Luke."

"What—why?"

"He came to see you after first period," his dark brown eyes dart up my face as he locks me in his gaze. He doesn't have to smirk because it's written in the way he says, "But you left in such a rush that he missed you."

"So you gave him my project?" I shake my head in confusion and squint at him.

Mr. Herkabe watches me for a moment before pushing himself up from his seat and leaning over the desk toward me, "That's right. Is that a problem?"

I open my mouth to say something yet nothing comes out. Clenching my jaw, I take a step back. Malcolm shifts his weight from his left to right foot. Slowly, I shake my head, 'no.'

A smirk finally finds its way onto Herkabe's lips as he nods once. Sitting down, he waves his hand at me, "You can go now."

Wordlessly, I slide past Malcolm and head for Mr. Luke's office. My cheeks are brimmed with heat, and I can't stop my brow from furrowing into a glare.

I'm so over today.

"Marney, wait up," Malcolm calls behind me, jogging to catch.

I keep my jaw clenched as I stare straight ahead. With how hostile I've proven today, best to keep my mouth shut for the time being. A girl from my math class slams the door to her tan locker and walks the opposite direction of us. Malcolm steps out of her way,

"You can't ignore me forever."

Watch me, I want to snap.

"You're mad," he starts to say. I glare at a blue and green poster depicting a hand that is inches from his face. He gets the hint and falls quiet for a moment.

The school janitors mops at a greenish-brown mess on the grey speckled floor a few feet in front of us. He's set up a yellow Caution: Wet Floor sign and instructs us to go the other way.

Sighing, I turn around. My eyes fall on Malcolm for a second. He wraps his hand around my wrist,

"Wait."

"Let go of me, Malcolm."

He grimaces, looks at my wrist and shakes his head, "Not until you listen to me."

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