Evans Thorpe in my class?

He didn’t even glance at the teacher, his eyes went straight to me, and the corner of his mouth lifted. That half-smirk I’d seen exactly once before, in the dark, when I hadn’t known who he was.

I could practically hear the whispers passing between desks. Evans Thorpe in our class? The same Evans who didn’t take this subject, who made a career out of skipping lectures?

“Mr. Thorpe,” Mrs. Carter said, “Find an empty seat and try to act like you’re here to learn.”

He pushed off the doorframe and strolled in like he owned the place, slow enough for his figure to brush mine as he took the empty seat behind me. My heart skipped a beat. God, he still had that sweet intoxicating scent of jasmines that made me feel lightheaded.

My eyes widened in panic as heat crept up my cheeks.

No. Absolutely not! This couldn't be happening. He didn’t even take Literature. I knew because I’d memorized every class to avoid both him and Atlas. So what was this sudden switch in the middle of the term?

Mrs. Carter continued, “because this is an accelerated course, Mr. Thorpe will require extra support. As our top-performing student in Literature, Tamine Jordan has been assigned as his tutor.”

My stomach dropped.

The class erupted into muffled laughs, whispers ricocheting around me.

“Oh poor Tamine…”

“If I had the opportunity to tutor Evans Thorpe, he'd be learning more than just Literature.”

“She’s so lucky…”

“You’ll arrange your own study sessions, but I expect visible improvement in his grades before the term ends,” Mrs Carter carried on like she didn't hear them.

Evans didn’t even try to hide his satisfaction. He leaned forward, his breath hitting the sides of neck as his smooth velvety voice dripped into my ears.

“Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together, sunshine.”

I spent the next thirty minutes thinking of excuses as to why I couldn't tutor Evans. As soon as the bell rang, I bolted to Mrs Carter's desk.

“Mrs. Carter, with all due respect…” I started, already trying to pull together something about my ‘packed schedule.’

She held up a hand, barely looking up from her gradebook. “I know what you’re going to say, Miss Jordan, and no, this isn’t optional.”

“But…”

She sighed and finally gave me her full attention. “The administration wants Mr. Thorpe to pass this course. He’s… behind.” She tapped her pen against the desk. “And by behind, I mean dangerously close to repeating the year. His counselor said Literature is his weakest subject so we’re giving him intensive support.”

My jaw tightened. Weakest subject. That was rich, coming from someone who didn't even have the subject listed in his schedule.

Mrs. Carter leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was sharing something confidential. “Between you and me, he specifically agreed to join this class instead of another elective because he thought he could… ‘manage the workload.’” Her tone suggested she didn’t quite believe that. “But I think he’ll respond best if someone his own age explains the material.”

My stomach twisted. “And that someone has to be me?”

“You’re our top Literature student. It’s a compliment,” she said briskly.

Behind me, I caught the sound of low, hushed laughter. When I glanced over my shoulder, half the class was still lingering, exchanging knowing looks.

“Bet she’ll be in his lap by next week.”

“She acts like she hates him, but we all know how that ends.”

“Top student? More like top pick for Evans’s next fling.”

I didn’t even need to guess what they were thinking. That I was stupid and naive. Was playing hard to get while secretly enjoying the attention and other stuff. But the truth was that tutoring Evans Thorpe was basically ripping my bully-free ticket in Blackridge to shreds as both he and Atlas, although opposite sides of the coin were the heartthrobs of Blackridge. They attracted everything, even the insects, I dare say.

And then there he was, leaning against the wall near the door like he had all the time in the world, watching the exchange unfold with an unreadable expression.

When Mrs. Carter dismissed me, I grabbed my bag and made a beeline for the exit, but Evans stepped into my path.

“So,” he drawled, eyes glinting, “when do we start?”

I swallowed. “We don’t. I’m busy.”

His smirk deepened, like my resistance was the most amusing thing he’d heard all week. “Funny. Mrs. Carter said otherwise.” He tilted his head slightly, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “And if you’re wondering why I’m here, let’s just say I’ve got unfinished business.”

The way he said it made my pulse stutter. I didn’t know if he meant with Literature… or with me.

“I don't care what business you have, Evans. I'm not tutoring you,” I said quickly and walked away as quickly as I could to my next class.

I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was the deep shit I found myself in. Last night was Atlas, this morning Evans. What more did the universe have in store for me?

Soon, it was lunch break and I thought I could finally get a break. I picked up my bag containing the sandwich I made this morning. I was heading to the roof when I saw the cheer squad heading towards me.

I assumed that they were heading for the cafeteria so I tried to make myself invisible by walking close to the wall.

They stopped suddenly and I tried to tell myself it didn't concern me in anyway.

“Is that her, Emilia?” I heard suddenly and froze. Emilia? Since when did she become a cheerleader?

“Yes,” I heard her shaky voice.

Almost immediately, they all turned to me. Their leader, the Queen bee, Charlotte Hart stepped forward in her cute little cheer outfit.

She was the typical attractive airhead blonde. A bully for no reason and of course, the only one amongst Atlas' numerous playthings, who believed she deserved the title of girlfriend.