16. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

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Come Monday my headache still hadn’t entirely disappeared. It had retreated and flared up again all weekend and I’d strongly considered asking my mom to call me in sick, but I’d already missed classes Friday. I’d woken up with some pretty fierce pounding upstairs, but thankfully my brain had settled down somewhat as I headed into my dreaded dance class.

As I crossed the quad I took the less direct path under the covered walkways, as it was not uncommon for the tons of seagulls flying overhead to drop slimy presents on unsuspecting victims. After lunch hour was the worst time for that, since the gulls would swoop in looking for food. At the moment there weren’t too many of them, but I’d much rather be cautious than end up sporting bird poo as a fashion statement.

I walked rather slowly to class, dragging my feet as if that could help me avoid having to go. If only.

“You look like you’re about to face the guillotine,” Mal’s amused voice commented as he fell into step beside me.

I felt like an idiot for the instant smile that spread across my face at his presence. “Well, you know, I’m just so eager to get to dance class,” I said sarcastically.

“Mmm, I’m sure,” he hummed resonantly, his eyes twinkling as he shot me a sidelong smirk. His face quickly turned serious. “How are you doing? I didn’t see you much last week.”

I’m okay. With the vampire thing, at least,” I laughed internally at how casually I could talk about such things. “School is a whole different thing though.”

He nodded and I noticed a small crease between his brows. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” I sighed. “The Winter National Championships are in two weeks.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No, it’s what I’ve trained to do. I just wish I wasn’t so tired.” We reached the classroom and slowed down since we were still early. “I might quit this class actually,” I said, glaring toward the door as if I could scorch the teacher behind it with my gaze. “I don’t need it and Quinn is seriously getting on my last nerve.”

He frowned. “Her attitude is more to do with me than you,” he said and I detected a faint bit of frustration in his tone.

“Why would that be?” I asked just as the bell rang for class.

Malcolm glanced briefly at the door to the classroom. “Later,” he said, pulling the door open and gesturing for me to go in ahead of him.

I scowled, frustrated that yet another mystery seemed to have sprung up and, yet again, I’d have to wait for the answer. He’s turning me into a rather impatient person, I mused as we shuffled into the classroom.

Despite what he said, I was far from convinced Quinn’s issue had to do with Mal and not me. The faint glare that settled on her face when she caught sight of me entering the room only increased my skepticism.

After changing I headed out onto the practice floor and took a seat next to Mal. He glanced at me briefly before he stood up swiftly, circled behind my back and sat down on the other side of me. I looked at him questioningly, wondering what in the world that was all about, but he simply stared toward the front of the classroom, his face blank.

I debated whether or not to call him out on his odd behavior, but Ms. Quinn walked up just then to start the class. She stopped at the front of the room, her back ramrod straight, hair slicked into a tight French twist from which not a single hair was allowed to escape. She wore a black leotard today with long sleeves and a long, flowy skirt in a deep red. Matching red character heels completed the look; their lacy straps winding sinuously around her ankles. Begrudgingly, I had to admit it was an elegant ensemble that highlighted her slender frame beautifully.

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