Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,36

learning that’s right for everyone. Sometimes it takes looking at something in a new and different way for you to understand it.”

“Yeah,” he mused, a slight frown on his face.

“And just between us,” I added, “Professor Patel can be a little dry in his teaching methods.”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” he muttered, collapsing back against the headboard. We lapsed into silence, as I navigated to the summary of Act 1, scene 5. I opened his copy of Macbeth to the correct page, my eyes skimming over the familiar words. Familiar, because I’d already completed our assignment.

“Read this scene, and then we’ll go through it,” I suggested softly, handing him the book and indicating where he should begin.

“Read it with me,” he countered. “You do the Lady Macbeth parts.”

I groaned, my cheeks flushing. “I-I can’t.”

“You can.” His voice was insistent. “We’re not in class, there’s no one else here. It’s just you and me.”

“Fine.” My cheeks flushed, again. He flashed me a satisfied smile, and I sighed. “Give me the book, then.”

Instead of handing me the book, he reached for my arm, tugging me closer before releasing me. Our legs were touching, and goosebumps popped along my arms. Somehow managing to ignore his presence, I began reading. “They met me in the day of success…”

I lost myself in the words, my self-consciousness vanishing almost as soon as it had arrived. When I paused for breath, I became aware of Carter watching me intently, an almost puzzled expression on his face. “What?”

He shrugged. “Never thought I’d see the day where we were in the same place and you weren’t irritating the fuck out of me.”

“Except for Fright Night,” I pointed out, and his eyes darkened. I gritted my teeth, prepared for a backlash. Why had I brought that up?

“Are you seeing Lena’s brother?” he suddenly asked, ignoring my comment.

“Huh?” My gaze flew to his. He’d schooled his features into a blank expression, and his voice was casual, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Never mind.”

“No, I’m not.” Despite Cassius’ idea to make Carter jealous, I couldn’t lie to his face. Not after I’d tricked him once. The fortune teller’s words echoed inside my head again. Trick him once, but don’t trick him twice. Why I was even thinking about that, I couldn’t say. It wasn’t like I believed in any of that kind of thing. Something about the way she’d spoken to me, though, and the intensity on her face…it had meant that her words had become imprinted on my brain.

Carter nodded, dropping the subject, and returned his attention to the page. “Carry on.”

“It’s your turn.”

The next hour flew past, as we read the rest of Act 1 and went through the CliffsNotes summary. I asked Carter questions, and he responded with thoughtful answers, making notes on his phone as we worked through it.

Before I knew it, there was a soft knock at the door, and Carter’s mum appeared. “Time’s up.” She smiled at me, before her attention turned to Carter. The smile dropped from her face. “I hope you behaved and listened to Raine. Your father and I expect at least a B on this assignment.”

Next to me, I felt Carter stiffen. I met her gaze head-on with a sudden need to defend him. “He’s going to do fine, Mrs. Blackthorne. He’s incredibly intelligent. There’s a lot of points he came up with that I didn’t even consider.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll show you out. Your aunt’s waiting downstairs.”

“Bye, Carter,” I murmured softly after pulling on my boots. He ignored me, his gaze fixed on his laptop screen.

With a sigh, I left the room.

17

Coming back to the park brought back all kinds of memories of Fright Night. Lena led me past the darkened café and large grassy area to the skatepark where tall floodlights illuminated a huge scooped-out bowl, with ramps and pipes surrounding it. The graffiti wall ran all along the back of the area, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the corner where Carter and I had painted our artwork, although I was too far away to see it.

“Welcome to the bowl.” Lena gestured with her arms out. “I come boarding down here when I can. But Sundays are fight night.”

“Fight night?” I stared down into the empty bowl. “Do you fight?”

Lena shook her head. “No. Not here. Only martial arts training.” A small smile appeared on her face. “The people who fight here can be a bit…crazy.”

“I didn’t even