desk, sending the cell phone perched on the edge crashing to the floor.
“Stupid bitch,” Summer swears under her breath, loud enough for most of the room to hear.
I let it slide, though, because the shoe most assuredly fits.
“I’m so sorry!” Emmalyn’s cheeks are as scarlet as the letter branded on her lying little soul as she scrambles to retrieve the phone.
“Get your hands off of my stuff!” Summer snatches the device back, glaring as though Emmalyn’s touch alone has somehow tainted her phone.
Emmalyn’s eyes take on a glassy sheen, but she continues to the open desk without replying.
“Now that everyone’s here and the show’s over”—I glare at Emmalyn, and she slinks down in her seat—"let’s get started. Today I’m assigning the first group project of the semester. You’ll be grouped in pairs and are expected to work together, as a unit, to do the research and the writing. You will also be required to give a presentation."
Murmurs along with a few groans fill the room. I let them have their moment before continuing.
“For this project, I will be assigning groups.” I begin rattling off names until there are only two left. Summer glares at me, while Emmalyn’s are downcast in a sad sort of acceptance.
“Summer, you’re with—”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “You can’t be serious!”
I narrow my eyes. “Oh, but I am.”
“Sterling,” she whines.
“There will be no complaints over your pairing, nor will there be any changes. If you can’t work together like mature adults, you’ll take a zero.” I drag my steely gaze from one side of the room to the other. “Which I wouldn’t recommend, as this is worth a hefty percentage of your grade.”
Another chorus of murmurs and groans ring out, but I pay them no mind. There’s only one person’s reaction that’s of any interest to me, and much to my dismay, she’s wearing an impenetrable mask of indifference.
“For your project, you’ll be writing a research paper on social cognition.” I go on to outline the finer points of the project before telling them to find their assigned partner. “I’ll give you a few minutes to discuss the project with your partner, please be sure to exchange contact information.”
The students scatter across the room in search of their partners, save for two. Summer sits with her plump lips curled into a vicious snarl, while Emmalyn looks more like a frightened field mouse.
The two glare at one another from their desks, both unwilling to make the first move.
I already know who’s going to cave first though, and it’s not going to be the snotty blonde.
As if on cue, Emmalyn slips from her seat and trudges over to Summer.
I hide my interest in the screen of my laptop, pretending to read while discreetly watching the two from the corner of my eye.
“Um, what days are you—”
“Okay, no. Stop.”
“What?” Emmalyn’s brow furrows.
Summer rolls her eyes. “I’m not free, any days, none at all, to work with you.”
“But it’s a group project. It requires both of us.”
“Your point?”
“My point is you can’t expect me to do it all.”
I’m mildly shocked by Emmalyn’s backbone. She’s always been on the meek side, so seeing her stand up to Summer is... unexpected.
As is the reaction her fire—as small as the flame may be—is having on me.
I recline slightly against the back of the desk chair, no longer bothering to pretend I’m not watching them. They’re both too engrossed in their showdown to notice.
“I can. And I do.”
“That’s not fair.”
Summer shrugs, unaffected. “Life’s not fair.”
Emmalyn’s cheeks redden as her anger grows.
I allow their standoff to continue for another minute before dismissing the class and returning my attention back to my laptop, in earnest this time.
A shadow falls over my keyboard causing me to glance up.
“Yes?” I ask, affecting a bored tone.
“Can we talk, please?” Emmalyn rakes her teeth over her lower lip.
“What about?”
“My partner.” She cringes, but presses on. “It’s just, I don’t think we can work together, and—”
“I’m going to go ahead and stop you there.” I push my chair away from the small desk and stand. “There will always be people who are difficult to work with, Princess Price.”
“I understand that, I do. It’s just—”
“It’s just that you’re a spoiled brat. But guess what?” I lean down and in, nearly pressing my lips to her ear. “You’re in the real world now.” Unable to help myself, I skim my nose over the shell of her ear, and she shivers, a response I file away for later. “Better get used