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

41

Parker

Penelope

Olive

Axel

Artemis

Jeno

Miles

"The names were not placed in any symbolic order," Edsel then informed the now rowdy crowd. But it was almost impossible to be heard over the sea of voices. The headmaster cleared his voice. "The listed students should rise to the stage. Now."

"What the hell is this?" Axel then said, the first to rise from his seat. "You're basically lining us up to be executed."

"A non-guilty person wouldn't be so defensive," Edsel replied with a grin. "Stop whining and get up here, Windsor." The senior rolled his eyes before descending the bleachers with the others.

But every step Miren took made her heart clench—with hope it would explode before she made it to the platform. She forced herself to look indifferent as she stared straight ahead; after all, only guilty people looked guilty, right?

By the time she made it to the stage, the crowd was going wild as if the selected students were performers at some over-priced music concert. Only instead of offering shouts of admiration and affection, they were cussing them out harder than they had ever done anything in their privileged lives. The instructors tried to tame them but it was obvious that they weren't being paid enough, otherwise they would have tried harder.

"Silence," Castro finally intervened. The crowd fell still. She pinched the skin between her eyes as she mumbled something in Spanish. She turned to Edsel who was still grinning like the manchild he was. "Although I do not personally agree with Headmaster Edsel's approach, I do agree that attacking the situation head on is perhaps the best method for actual progress."

"What's your definition of progress?" Olive then said almost curtly. "How do you know that the real culprit isn't sitting comfortably in the crowd? Hell, maybe it was an underclassman. Maybe they're not even here."

"The faster you seven cooperate the faster you can leave, Miss Vishna," the woman assured her. "The name of the game is transparency."

"Or maybe you're just trying to cover up something big." The intensity behind her eyes was almost blinding. "Scared I'll expose it?"

"I'm scared that your lack of cooperation is wasting a perfectly good Friday evening." The woman clasped her hands. "Edsel, on with the questions."

"Alight."

The headmaster walked past the students like a drill sergeant evaluating a flock of wannabe soldiers. Miren tried not to gulp as he shifted past her. Naturally, she was in the middle the line—between Parker and Axel. Olive was toward the front it, near Artemis and Jeno. She bit her lip as she fought the urge to look at her ex-friend/almost-lover's direction. But she could feel his concern toward her, which made her feel like even more of a conflicted asshole.

"That looks new," Edsel then said to his brother, examining his black eye. "I don't remember Parker socking you in the eye."

"If you don't get on with whatever it is you want to ask me, I'll be forced to say something indecent," was Jeno's reply. He was usually pretty somber, but there was something even more depressing about his voice. Edsel wasn't fazed, however.

"Are you and Olivia Vishna an item?"

It took everything for Jeno not to roll his eyes at his brother's interrogation. Instead, his gaze shifted briefly to the girl. She just shrugged, offering a similar look of annoyance.