The Class Reject: A Martyr in Maelstrom (Book III)

6

"What did I tell you about messing around with Jeno?" it was boarder-line ninja like how quick Jemma appeared in front of her brother and the witch of the west. Penelope raised an eyebrow at her, but before she could part her mouth to respond, Jemma was already pulling him through the crowd.

"Hey!" Penelope called out.

Jeno would have pulled free, or at least questioned his sister's motives, but being in the witch's presence was more boring than disturbing. He recorded nothing useful, and she had countered three of his escape plans. Once they reached the outer part of the crowd, Jemma tapped her foot impatiently.

"I don't know if you're trying to settle some score with Parker or something, but it has to end now. Penelope's bad news."

Jeno rolled his eyes. "Aren't you the one who forced me to come here? And if you think so ill of her, why are you friends with her?"

"As you may have noticed, being her enemy should be avoided at all costs." Jemma folded her arms as she looked up at her brother. "Besides, last I checked, you're the one that hates her."

"Last I checked, you're wasting your time schooling me when you could be entertaining your jarhead boyfriend. There are a lot of girls here. And it is Valentine's Day." He probably shouldn't have taken joy in watching Jemma pout, but it had been an uneventful night. When she shook her head, he figured his manipulation efforts had failed. Drat.

"Whatever. Just go dance with someone else." Her eyes scanned the space before locking in on their target. The corner of her lip jerked upward, but it was hard to see in the flashing neon lights. "Like that random chick." She pushed Jeno into the female who appeared to be hurrying away from their direction. With a small salute, Jemma faded into the crowd.

"Sorry about that," Jeno said, grabbing the girl's arm to keep her from falling. But when his eyes landed on hers, he didn't feel particularly apologetic. Just shocked.

"Miren—" she capped his mouth before he could get her name out, her eyes suddenly harsh and capable of murder. In the same moment she wiggled out of his grip and started in a dash for the exit. She had made it outside when his arm found hers again.

Shit.

Then he was dragging her down the street. She technically could have cried bloody murder. After all, he was an adult now. Then again, she was an eighteen-year-old named Sara. She closed her eyes. Double shit.

His ember eyes were both pleading and furious. But she didn't have to explain herself, did she? He had fucked up. Not her.

"As fun as it is staring at you, it's getting late," she said casually, as if she hadn't been legally missing for over a week now. "So I'm going to head out."

"Do I really mean nothing to you?" Jeno replied, his voice more brooding than she remembered. "I looked everywhere for you. The others were worried sick!"

"If you really thought I was going to move to Cambodia or something, than you deserved to be worried," she spat, folding her arms. "I'm not you. I'm not cruel."

Jeno closed his eyes. "If you're really going to point fingers at me, then you should revaluate your definition of cruel. I never betrayed you. I made a decision you didn't like and you ostracized me for it." Miren snorted.

"I think I'm the only one who's been ostracized here." Her eyes narrowed. "Last I checked, you're not the one living a double life because you were literally bullied to death. Not to mention, you're the one who encouraged this whole charade to go on." She shook her head. "All for what? Because you liked me? Newsflash, it would have been a lot easier to like me as a girl."