I turned to the poor girl whose desk Damien had claimed. She stood in the corner watching us with round eyes. As Prof. Engler returned to her lesson, the girl crept over to an empty desk and sat down. Damien picked up the notebook and handouts that had been on the desk. He looked over them with a sneer then pushed them over to my desk. I had to grab them to keep them from falling to the floor. The top handout was the syllabus. I glanced over it to see what the lesson plan was and then looked at the girl’s notes. I took out one of my notebooks and copied down what she’d written, as well as jotting down what Prof. Engler was currently saying.

Damien pulled out his phone and started playing some game. I ignored him and focused on Prof. Engler, until a hand landed on my thigh. I shot up out of my seat. Damien didn’t even look up from his phone. Prof. Engler paused for a second to blink at me but then continued on with her lesson. I didn’t know what to do. Damien’s hand had fallen away when I stood up. They were both on the phone now as he focused on his game. I cautiously sat back down, but scooted my chair away from Damien. I could only put a few more inches between us, but I’d take whatever extra space I could get. Thankfully, he didn’t reach for me again. 

If you play nice, I drop the charges. Your father goes free and even keeps his job. Was this part of the deal? There was no way I could do this. I couldn’t just let Damien do whatever he wanted to me. But I didn’t want to get my parents in trouble. I hated this. I hated Damien. I hated how the rich could just steamroll over everyone. What was I supposed to do?

When the bell rang, I packed up my things and neatly stacked the girl’s belongings. I waited for Damien to get up and leave. He did stand, but he didn’t leave. He stared at me. I cautiously stood.

“Where to next, honeybun?” he asked with an evil smile.

I frowned at the endearment. “What class do you have next?”

“What class do you have?” he asked in return.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll show you to your class and then go to mine.”

His eyes narrowed. “We’re in all the same classes,” he said.

That was a lie. “No, we’re not.”

“We are if I say we are.”

The poor girl with glasses was waiting to retrieve her things. I didn’t want to make her wait and/or possibly attract Damien’s psychotic attention. I left her things on the desk and headed for the door. “Fine, time for Spanish.”

“Spanish?” Damien said. I could hear the disdain in his voice.

“Would you like me to take you to a different foreign language class?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah, let’s take Japanese.”

“Japanese is in here, I think,” I said, stopping outside a classroom. Damien stopped as well. But he didn’t go in.

I scrunched my brow and looked in. Origami cranes dangled from the ceiling. Yes, this was definitely the Japanese classroom. I turned to head to Spanish class.

“Where are you going?” Damien demanded.

“To Spanish class. Bye.”

Spanish was on the other end of the hall. If I ran, I might beat the bell. I was in the doorway when it sounded. I sighed and gave Profesora Nuñez a smile in greeting. She didn’t return my smile. She merely stared.

“Lo siento, profesora.”

I whirled around to find Damien behind me. “What are you doing here?”

“En español, Sarah. Por favor,” he said.

“Por favor, sentarse,” Profesora Nuñez said.

Damien took my wrist and pulled me to the back of the classroom. There weren’t any empty desks back there. He stopped at the pair in the far corner and stared at the two guys sitting there. One looked ready to protest, but his partner leaned over and whispered to him. They both packed up and moved to a pair of empty desks at the front of the classroom. Damien pulled out the chair for the desk by the window and pushed me into it and sat down in the other.

I sat there in shock. I turned and blinked at him. “I thought you wanted to take Japanese.”

He shrugged and leaned back. “Lo que sea. Esta será una fácil A.”

My Spanish was minimal, but I understood that he knew the language. Profesora Nuñez handed out the syllabus and began the first lesson. I took notes while Damien paid no attention.

I didn’t understand what was going on. Damien’s insistence on shadowing me from class to class was bizarre. Why he had glommed onto me was a mystery.

During class, I realized I needed to use the restroom. I scooted my chair back to get up, but Damien grabbed my wrist, halting me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the restroom,” I said, shaking my wrist.

“Leave everything here,” he said.

“I was planning on it.” I twisted my wrist to break his hold.

He let me go. “Come straight back, or I’ll burn all your stuff.”

I cradled my wrist and left the room without looking around to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange. Even if they had seen it, no one would do anything. Once in the hallway, I ran. I went to the nearest girls’ restroom and into a stall. As I was finishing up, two girls entered.

“Have you heard Demon West enrolled?”

“Yeah, I also heard he’s already been in the security office for beating someone up.”

“Jesus, already? I heard he got kicked out of four different middle schools. I heard he killed a kid at one.”

“Yeah, my cousin Rory told me he smashed a kid’s head in with a rock.”

“Geez, why is he even allowed in here?”

“Because he’s a West, of course. His family practically owns this place.”

“God, I hope I don’t have any classes with him.”

“Oh God, me too.”

The girls retreated to a pair of stalls. I let myself out and washed my hands. He’d killed a student? Remembering the knife, I didn’t doubt it. I walked back to Spanish class. Damien watched me when I came back into the room. His cold blue eyes made me shiver. When I was reseated, he took out his phone and began playing his game again. I sat with my back straight and eyes facing forward, but I couldn’t focus on what Profesora Nuñez was saying. All of my attention was on my peripheral vision. I could just make out the flashing colors of Damien’s game. Would he grab me again? Did he still have his knife? I hadn’t seen Capt. Timmons confiscate it. I had to get away from him. Why’d he have to notice me? I was a nobody. Was that why? If he killed me, would it be easier to cover up?

When the bell rang, I gathered my things. I kept myself from looking at Damien. I didn’t want to engage him.

“Where to now?” he asked. His feet were still propped up on the desk. He’d basically walled me in with his body. I couldn’t slip out around him.

“It’s lunch time,” I said.

He smiled. “So what’s for lunch?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to check the menu. Excuse me,” I said, hoping he’d move and let me go.

He didn’t move.

I had planned to go home to fix myself lunch. I didn’t have permission to eat in the cafeteria. That was for paying students.

Though every fiber of my being screamed against it, I said, “I can show you where the cafeteria is.”

Damien turned and gave me a knowing look. “But that’s not where you’re having lunch.”

“No,” I said and didn’t elaborate.

Damien sighed and took his feet off the desk. I waited tensely.

“Fine. Show me to the cafeteria.”

We walked down the hall. It was packed with other students, but we were not jostled or pushed. An invisible bubble surrounded us. Or rather, an invisible bubble surrounded Damien. He walked nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets. When the turn to the courtyard came, Damien kept walking. I reached out tentatively and touched his arm. He whirled toward me with his teeth bared. I shrank back, afraid he was about to hit me. He blinked in confusion.

“What?” he asked.

I indicated the turn. “The cafeteria’s this way.”

He looked and squinted. He held out his elbow. “Here, take my arm.”

I shrank back more. “There’s no need. We’re almost there.”

He stared at me and didn’t move.

Dammit. He wasn’t going to budge unless I did what he said. I reached out and wrapped a hand around his elbow. He reached over and pulled my hand through and didn’t let go as his arm clamped down around mine. “That’s better,” he said.

“For who?” I muttered.

“For whom,” he corrected.

“I stand by the question.”

He grinned and pulled me along.

Really, he didn’t need a guide to find the cafeteria. The stream of students headed there would’ve shown him the way.

As we approached the entrance, I began to tug on my arm. “What now?” he asked in irritation.

“You’re here. Bye.”

“Have lunch with me,” he said.