Chapter 142 Chapter One Hundred And Forty Two
STILL LENA’S POV
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jace. Now for the thousandth time, leave me alone.”
I pulled my hand free from Jace’s grip and pushed through the door to AP History, desperation making my voice sharp.
“Like hell there isn’t—” Jace fired back.
The moment we crossed inside, the entire classroom went silent.
Twenty-something pairs of eyes swivelled toward us in perfect unison, their conversations cutting off mid-sentence.
The sudden silence was so complete I could hear the clock ticking on the wall… and then the whispering started.
“Wait, who is that with Jace?”
“Oh my God, is that—”
“Holy shit, you were right, she’s gorgeous—”
Near the windows, a cluster of girls had gathered around Allison’s desk like ladies-in-waiting attending to royalty.
They’d been fussing over her before I entered, one girl was dabbing at the mud stains on Allison’s blazer using a wet wipe, while another girl was holding up a compact mirror as Allison fixed her makeup.
“I mean, you still look amazing, Allie,” the girl with the compact was saying. “Your dress is so cute—”
“Shut up! I’ll murder that girl for doing this to me, she’s dead!”
“Try to calm down Allison, okay? You know—”
“Holy shit. She’s here.” the girl with the wet wipes stopped what she was doing and pointed at me.
The moment they all saw me, they went quiet. Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, they abandoned Allison mid-consolation and rushed toward me.
“Oh my God, hi!”
“Are you new here? I’m Tina!” A petite blonde with a high ponytail appeared in front of me, her smile blindingly white. “I just wanted to say I absolutely love your outfit. Where did you get that top?”
“Your hair is incredible,” another girl gushed, reaching out like she wanted to touch it before thinking better of it. “Do you go to Valerie’s Salon on Fifth?”
“Are you single? Because I have an older brother who would absolutely die for your phone number—”
“Can I get your Snapchat?”
They all swarmed around me, a wall of perfume and questions and eager faces. So many girls who had never looked at me twice in three years of sharing a classroom now acted like I was a celebrity who’d wandered onto campus by mistake.
“No,” I managed, trying to weave through them toward my usual seat in the back. “I’m not new. I’m Lena Hartwell. Don’t you recognise me?”
The chattering stopped, and a few of them actually did a double-take.
“Lena Hartwell ?” Tina repeated slowly, her perfectly shaped eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Who the hell is that?”
“It’s that hideous fat girl who almost got drowned,” Brad Chen said from the back row, his voice carrying across the room. “Remember? In the pool?”
“Oh, wait. I think I do remember. Then she was at cheerleader tryouts, right?” Madison, one of Allison’s core followers added, her nose wrinkling. “And somehow she ended up on the team?”
“On probation, yeah.” Another girl added.
Tina let out a nervous laugh. “You’re so funny, new girl. That was a great joke. But seriously, what’s your real name?”
“Did you seriously just walk away from me while I was talking? For Lena?!” Allison’s voice pierced through the chatter, making me jump in surprise.
She was standing up now, both her hands planted on her desk as her face flushed with anger and humiliation. “I can’t believe this!”
The group of girls around me glanced back at Allison, then immediately turned forward again, their attention snapping straight back to me.
They followed me as I made my way through the maze of desks toward my seat, the same one I’d occupied for two years, the one at the very front of the class where I could focus on the teacher and the class and be out of the line of fire from my army of bullies.
I sat down, placing my bag carefully on the floor, and looked up to find at least twenty faces staring at me expectantly.
“So, like, how did you lose all that weight?” a girl named Amber asked, leaning against the desk next to mine.
“I just… ate less. Exercised more. I had a trainer and he really helped so…”
“Do you model?” Tina persisted. “You have to model, right? You totally have that look.”
“No. One of my best friends' sisters is a stylist, she helped me pick my new hair colour and stuff…”
“Oh my God, can you give me her number?”
“Are you, like, a sugar baby?” This from Brad, who was now standing on his chair to see over everyone’s heads. “Because there’s no way you afford those clothes on your own—”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Video vixen?” someone else suggested.
“Escort?”
“What? No!” My face burned. “I’m just a student, like all of you. I work a part-time job as a tutor.”
“Alright, back the fuck up,” Jace’s voice boomed from behind me. “All of you, get out of my way.”
The crowd scattered like a bunch of startled birds at the sight of Jace, giving him a wide berth as he made his way to his seat, the one directly behind mine.
Which was weird, because he never came to class and the few times he did, he always sat all the way at the back. But now he was close enough that I could feel his gaze, hot on the back of my neck, even when I wasn’t looking.
He sat down on his chair with enough force to make it scrape against the floor.
“Why the fuck are you acting like this?” he demanded, leaning forward so his voice was low and meant only for me. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
I pulled out my notebook and pen with deliberate precision, focusing on arranging them perfectly parallel on my desk. “What part of ‘I’m with Noah now’ do you not understand?”
Around us, I could see our classmates literally straining to hear our conversation. Then they pulled out their phones, fingers flying across the screens as they tapped away, no doubt updating their different group chats with real-time gossip.
“Listen to me, Lena. For fucks sake!”
“I said no.” I stubbornly made my game face at the board; chin up, spine straight, eyes forward.
The perfect picture of someone who definitely wasn’t affected by the boy behind her.
I definitely wasn’t replaying the dream I had of him in the back of my mind on a loop, I definitely wasn’t blushing bright red at the thought of it, and I definitely couldn’t feel the buzz of electricity still lingering on my wrist from when he’d grabbed hold of me.
Nope. Definitely not.
A shadow suddenly cast across my table, and I looked up from my notes to find Tyler Evans, blocking my view from the front.
He was a six-foot-two linebacker and Allison’s most devoted admirer, the guy who’d literally dumped his girlfriend Kayla during a game of spin the bottle just because Allison had suggested it on a whim.
He just walked right past Allison’s table, headed straight toward me.
He stopped next to my desk, running a hand through his sandy hair, trying for what I assumed was supposed to be a charming smile.
“Hey, new girl.” His voice had dropped an octave, trying to sound smooth. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tyler. Tyler Evans. I play linebacker for—”
“Walk away,” Jace commanded, cutting off Tyler’s clumsy attempt at flirting. His voice was flat and cold, and absolutely lethal.
I turned to see him looking up at Tyler with a death glare that could’ve frozen lava. His jaw was set, his hands closed into tight fists, his eyes dark and dangerous, with every inch of his body language screaming threat.
Tyler actually gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yeah. Got it. She’s all yours, man.”
He retreated quickly, nearly tripping over someone’s backpack in his haste to get away.
I whipped around to glare at Jace. “What was that for?” I hissed. “He was being nice.”
“He was being a desperate piece of shit who only wanted to get in your pants because you look hot now,” Jace shot back, not bothering to lower his voice.
Cue more gasping and frantic typing by the rest of the class.
“I can’t believe you’re ruining this for me,” I whispered angrily through gritted teeth, leaning back so only he could hear. “This is supposed to be my first day back. I’m trying to make a good impression here.”
Jace leaned forward in his chair, close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck when he spoke. “I don’t give a fuck about your new impression. I care about your safety. I care about you not graduating high school in a body bag.”
I scoffed, turning back around. “Stop being so dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” His voice rose slightly. “Do you know what Allison is capable of? Do you have any idea—”
Suddenly the classroom door opened, and every head in the room turned, eager for some new drama.
A man walked in, and the energy in the room switched up immediately.
He was young, he couldn’t be more than mid twenties, with dark curly hair, tan skin and sharp cheekbones, along with a presence that commanded attention without even having to try.
He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, carried a leather messenger bag and set it down on top of the teacher's table, finally turning to face us so we could see more than just his profile.
And I never, ever said this about most people, especially older people because it was inappropriate, but boy was he handsome.
It was as if a giant fireman had lost his way and had somehow ended up in our classroom.
“Quiet down, please.” His voice was a deep, authoritative baritone that put a stop to the lingering whispers “Class is now in session.”
A hush fell on us students as we watched him watch us for a full minute. And then he said, “Good morning. I’m Mr Reeves.” A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll be your substitute teacher for the next few weeks while Mrs McCarthy is on maternity leave.”
Behind me, I heard Jace curse under his breath.
But I was too busy staring at Mr Reeves to care, because he was looking directly at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
And something about the way he was looking at me made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Now…” he asked, “where do we start?”