Punk 57 Page 33

I watch as Manny breathes hard, his black eyebrows wrinkled up in pain. He brings his hand away from his ear, and I see blood. My eyes go wide, and I suck in a breath.

Oh, my God. Is that coming from his ear or out of it? Before I can find out, though, Manny slams his locker door shut and charges off, disappearing into the bathroom as the bell sounds off.

“Nice going, asshole,” I scold.

“Hey, it was an accident.”

I see him cast a look at Lyla, and then I see J.D. pop up behind him as all of the students hurry to class.

“Get in class,” J.D. tells Lyla, his jaw flexing.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’ll finish talking to you later.”

She stands there, looking angry, but I don’t stick around to watch the outcome.

Walking past them, I head to Art, but I don’t see Masen in his seat. And by the time the bell rings, he’s still not there.

I just saw him in the hall. How does he get to just come and go as he likes and skip classes?

Luckily, though, Trey isn’t crashing class, either, so I make it through the entire period getting work on Misha’s cover done and being left entirely alone.

Even Manny is missing, probably having gone to the nurse to get his ear checked. I hope he’s okay. That had to hurt.

After class ends, I make my way to English, weaving through students as I slip into the classroom. Masen is sitting in his seat, and I pause, taken aback.

Jesus. What does he do? Put in appearances whenever he feels like it?

No books again, no visible pencil, and looks like he just showed up because he has nothing better to do. Isn’t he worried about graduating?

“Alright, take your questionnaires and go set the rest of your things down,” Mr. Foster instructs as we file into the room and he passes out papers. “And don’t forget to take a pencil. Once I call your names, you can pair up, take your things to the library, and begin working.”

Oh, that’s right. It’s Research Day.

Once in a while, Foster sends us to the library to let us work on our skills. He pairs us up, hands us a worksheet of information to find, and then we’re on our own for the whole period. It’s a reason to get out of class. I never complain.

“Lane, Rodney, and Cooper,” Foster calls from his roster.

Three students stand up, take their materials, and leave the room.

“Jess, Carmen, and Riley.”

He keeps going, one group after another, as the room slowly empties, and my nerves start to turn anxious when I realize there’s only a handful of people left, including Masen and me.

Please not him.

But Foster calls the next group. “Ryen, J.D., and Trey.”

I let out a breath of relief.

“Hell, yeah,” J.D. boasts, and I see him swipe a high-five at Trey next to him. I start to stand up, taking what I need.

“And last two…” Foster announces. “Lyla and Masen.”

I falter for only a moment and then swing my bag over my shoulder, hurrying out of the classroom.

Lyla and Masen. Great. She won’t be able to control herself.

I step out of the classroom, hardening my expression. Why do I even care? I don’t like him. I don’t give a damn if she flirts with him, which she’ll definitely do, so let her have at it. Fine.

She’s J.D.’s problem anyway.

And it doesn’t matter. Someone else already has my heart, and Masen Laurent isn’t him. He’ll never be Misha.

“My parents are out of town in a couple weeks,” Trey jogs up to me and places his hand on my waist as we walk. “I’m having a party, and I want you there.”

“Yeah, the pool’s heated,” J.D. adds behind us.

I look back, seeing Lyla and Masen following us, Masen’s eyes on me.

“Yeah, I know,” I tell J.D. “I’ve been in it. Remember?”

“Great,” Trey chimes back in. “So bring a swimsuit. Or don’t. Either way.”

Heat blankets my back, and I suddenly feel surrounded. I cast a quick glance back again, and I see Masen looking away as Lyla chats about something, but then he must sense me looking, because he meets my eyes again.

Trey follows my gaze, noticing my attention is not on him. Before I even realize my mistake, he whips around and grabs Masen by the collar, throwing him into the lockers.

“Hey,” he says in an overly friendly voice. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Trey Burrowes. You’re Masen Laurent.”

J.D., Lyla, and I stand and watch as Masen remains still, simply staring at Trey.

“Now that that’s over,” Trey goes on, closing in and getting in his face. “Let’s get a few things straight.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I inch closer.

“Yeah, Trey, come on,” J.D. speaks up. “He’s a good guy.”

But Trey just holds up his hands. “Relax. We’re just having a talk. I promise.”

I look down and see Masen’s fingers curl into fists, but he doesn’t move as Trey and he stand eye to eye.

“Now you’ve been having a little fun with my girl in class, and I also hear you were hassling her in the parking lot yesterday,” Trey states. “Whatever bullshit you’ve got going on stops now. Leave her alone.”

Masen’s gaze flickers to me, and a weight hits me in the chest. His eyes look sharp and angry at first, but that seems to change to disappointment along with something else. Sadness, maybe?

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