004: After Class

ARIA

C?

I got a C on my Werewolf History paper!?

I look up at Professor Denver in disbelief. He gives me a look behind his glasses and says smoothly, "Do better next time, Murdock."

"But...what could've gone wrong? I'm sure I—"

"Anything you wish to discuss can be done so after class," he tells me dismissively before moving on to hand out more graded assignments. I flip through the pages in disbelief. I gave this paper my all, like I always do, yet for some reason, nothing seems to be enough for Professor Denver.

I'm the lowest-performing student in his class, which is crazy considering I do well in everything else, which is why I got a scholarship to study at Ironclaw U to begin with.

But I have to maintain a certain grade to keep the scholarship. If I get kicked out, what am I supposed to do?

I'm the oldest student in my class because Uncle Barty just didn't have the money to pay my tuition. I worked a few odd jobs after high school, demoralized because I really wanted to continue my studies and work in the medical field. Two years later, I was presented with this opportunity of a lifetime. Uncle Barty managed to secure this position for me.

I work as a medic for the team in exchange for my classes. It's unpaid work and it's a lot of work, but I'm beyond privileged to have this opportunity.

Only twenty other Omegas study at Ironclaw U.  They're the wealthy Omegas—the ones with generational wealth who actually work alongside the Alpha.

The rest of us are too poor to afford to further our education, so we end up working menial jobs for the rest of our lives, struggling to pay rent and live.

A grade like this could destroy my life. I just don't know how to please him.

What do I do?

"Well," he continues once he's standing next to the whiteboard again, "now you've seen your grade. Congratulations to all of you who passed well—your efforts are appreciated."

He looks directly at me when he says that and my cheeks grow red and hot.

"Let's continue on page—"

His lesson is interrupted when someone walks into the classroom. They're ten minutes late. Ryder. He looks at Professor Denver and says in a low voice that I can hear because I'm sitting right in the first row, "I had a meeting with the headmaster."

"It's alright. Please, have a seat."

This is the only class we have together, and for the past two months, he's always strutted in and never once looked at me. Today's different, though. His eyes are on me as he walks past, and our eye contact is only broken once he has walked past me.

But I'm not rid of him yet, because he's sitting right behind me.

His warm, spicy scent invades my nostrils and distracts me. I'm not listening to Professor Denver—I'm paying attention to his scent, and how he's breathing and moving behind me. It's so annoying. I can't focus on anything but the feel of him behind me.

I'm already doing badly in this class. I don't need more of this.

"...Ms. Murdock?"

I look up and make direct eye contact with the professor. He's watching me sternly, and I realize he just asked me a question I didn't even hear.

Crap.

"Uh...could you ask that again, please?"

"Distracted?"

I gulp. I don't know what I could possibly answer this. I feel every eye in the room on me, and it's not a good feeling. If it weren't for Ryder Drexel sitting right behind me, this wouldn't have happened.

Yes, it's my fault for getting distracted. But I blame him.

"What year was the last Rogue Rebellion?" he repeats, rearranging his glasses.

"1967," answers the voice behind me before I get a chance to say anything. Ryder. Professor Denver nods, but the look he gives me is filled with disappointment.

I clench my fists under the table and turn my head to get a look at him. His eyes land on me, and in his face, I see something unreadable. Why did he answer the question for me? What the hell is wrong with him?

"Alright, class is dismissed. Ms. Murdock, stay behind a minute."

I pack my things unusually slowly as I wait for everyone to file out of the room. Ryder is the last to leave. I feel his eyes on me as he starts toward the door, but I ignore him. Once he's out the door, I approach Professor Denver's desk.

"This isn't good, Aria," he says, using my first name, which is something he never does when there are other students around. He leans back and stares at me for a long while. "What's the matter? Don't I teach you well?"

"I'm actually wondering why you gave me such a low grade," I reveal. "I gave this my all—I know I did great."

I spent weeks working on this. How can this be?

"Hm," he says, leaning closer now and resting his hands on the table. "So, now you know better than me? Or what are you suggesting? That I gave you a low grade on purpose?"

I keep my jaw clenched and refrain from answering.

A slow smile curves his lips and for some reason, I panic. It makes me nervous. "You're really something, Aria. I don't think I've ever met an Omega like you."

"What's that supposed to mean, Professor?"

"It means you're different," he claims before standing up and leaning against the side of the desk. He's standing very close to me now and I'm starting to get a strange vibe from all of this. He's asked me to stay behind before, but things never got this...weird. "I'm not sure if I like it or not."

"Why did you ask me to stay behind?" I ask, getting straight to the point and hoping that, by doing so, I can leave quicker.

"I wanted to discuss your grade."

"I'll do better."

He taps the desk with his fingers one. Then twice. "I'm not sure if that will be enough in your case, to be honest."

I search his eyes behind his glasses. "What's that supposed to mean? I know I can do better."

Again, he smiles in that eerie way. My skin crawls. I want to get the hell out of this class. "We'll discuss this in detail on Friday. Come to my office after six."

I grab my paper and rush toward the door, my heart beating fast. I push the door open, tumbling into the hallway.

The sight of Ryder leaning against the wall of the empty hallway makes me gasp loudly. My heart slams against my ribs. His gaze is on me, and it's unwavering. Before I can ask him what he's doing here, he asks me, "Is everything alright?"

I'm so stunned that I can't answer his question. Is Ryder Drexel really asking me that?

With no warning, he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way to my side. "Answer my question, Aria. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

What. On. Earth?