The Raven Four Books 1-3 - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,9

be the point in that? Like I said before, by the end of the day, he’ll have no desire to be friends with me anymore.

Four

Raven

Like I guessed, I end up having to walk into first period late. Thankfully, the teacher lets me slide on in without too much of a fuss. And as a double bonus, Dixie May isn’t in this class.

I keep waiting for something to happen. For the whispering to start. For the labels to begin being thrown at me. Strangely, though, the morning goes by pretty uneventfully. Well, until fourth period rolls around.

Like I did in every other one of my classes, I first go talk to the teacher when I walk in to tell him I’m new.

“Oh, yes, right.” Mr. Mcnellton, a middle-aged guy with thinning hair, glances up from the stack of papers on his desk. “I think your sister was in my second period class.”

“Cousin,” I correct. “But, yeah, we live together.”

“Oh, I see.” He clearly doesn’t, confusion flooding his eyes.

He wants to ask questions, but like most, he won’t, over the fear that the answer might be uncomfortable to hear.

It is, too, for everyone who dares to ask.

The girl who murdered her parents.

He clears his throat then adjusts his tie. “Well, you can sit anywhere you like. The seats aren’t assigned. And I’m sure I’m going to enjoy having you in my class.”

I want to tell him my story of Jerry and his theory that proves there’s no way he can be sure of that, but I decide to attempt to keep on the teacher’s good side for now.

I nod then wander toward a row of desks lining the middle of the classroom, choosing the far back one where I can keep my head low and hopefully not get called on.

Once I’m seated, I set my binder on the desk, pop my earbuds in, and then recline back in the seat. I have about four minutes until the bell rings, so I should be able to listen to one full song.

A minute later, I'm zoned out, tapping my fingers to the beat, when a guy approaches my desk. He has on a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head, and his eyes are as dark as storm clouds, although completely and utterly gorgeous—and intense. His jawline is covered with stubble, along with a scar, and his expression is intense. I’m not sure what he wants, but I don’t really care too much, at least not enough to take my earbuds out. He makes no effort to move, though, continuing to stare at me.

What the hell is this guy’s deal?

I tug one of my earbuds out. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, you’re in my seat,” he grumbles.

I’m so confused. “Really? Because the teacher said they weren’t assigned.”

A beat of silence passes by as he stares at me intimidatingly.

“They’re not officially assigned,” he finally states with a hint of annoyance. “But anyone who has any self-perseveration knows not to sit in that seat.” He nods at the desk on my right then my left. “Or in those.”

I tap my finger against my lip. “Huh? I guess I must’ve left my self-preservation at home today.”

The tiniest bit of surprise flickers in his eyes, but he swiftly extinguishes it. “Well, I suggest you go find it before you end up doing something stupid.” He places his hands on my desk and leans in. “Now get out of my seat.”

My heart thunders in my chest. How do I want to handle the situation? I mean, I want to keep going about my day unnoticed, and if I put up a fight with this guy, that’ll draw attention. But his demanding attitude is annoying. It’s like he just expects me to do what he says, like everyone in this world does.

He’s like a male version of Dixie May, only more intense.

His irritation festers the longer I sit in the seat without moving. His jaw ticks, his eyes darken, and his muscles wind into tight knots.

“Trust me, new girl; you really don’t want to play this game with me,” he warns in a low tone.

“What game?” I carry his gaze. “I’m just sitting at a desk, trying to mind my own business.”

“At my desk,” he stresses. “Now get up and go find a seat somewhere else before I make you.”

My pulse spikes, but so does my stubbornness. When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that being stubborn would be a benefit and a curse. But she