Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,109

idiot.”

Micha has gone a little ambitious today; fake lashes, little whorls painted on the outside of his eyes, lids sporting a gradient of pink and turquoise. There’s a silhouette of a flock of birds spreading out toward each temple.

It looks cool as fuck.

Jase laughs, nudging his brother. “He identifies as a gay bird.”

Gus gives Micha more of his stink eye. “More like he identifies as a circus freak.”

It isn’t until I stand, pushing Jase back, with all intentions of getting into Gus’ disgusting face, that I realize Heston is right behind them.

“Want to know what I identify as?” he asks, clamping a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “Ten hours of detention.” He gives Gus a hard look. “And whatever Dewey thinks will complement it best.”

“What?” Gus gapes at him, eyes sparking. “Dude, what the—”

“It could be fifteen hours,” Heston adds, shoving Jase away to stand between them and Micha. “Actually, now that I think about it, fifteen sounds really good. What do you think, Adams?”

Micha chirps, “Twenty.”

Heston turns his head just enough for me to make out the flash of surprise in his eyes. “Spiteful, Adams.” Nodding, he adds, “I respect that.”

Micha munches another chip. “Thanks.”

Jase looks like he wanted to argue, but Gus must realize that the more that happens, the more detention they’ll get. He grabs his brother by the arm and drags him away, shooting Heston a threatening look as they skulk away.

“Class isn’t until seven,” he says, turning to us with narrowed eyes. “Is there some reason the two of you are loitering on my bench, getting crumbs everywhere?” His glare doesn’t have any actual heat to it, so the barked words fall flat.

“We’re waiting on Coach James,” I tell him, not flinching at the way he watches me. “We get our first performance reports today,”

The thing is, I know he’s waiting. Every day, there’s a glance across the dining hall, a stare across the pool, quick flicks of his eyes in the hallways, like he’s wondering if it’s time—if I’m ready to go again. The way he’s looking at me now, blue eyes pinning me, the scruffy edge of his jaw tightening, makes me wonder if he’s not just waiting.

Maybe he’s hoping.

“Coach James isn’t doing your reports,” he says, pulling two envelopes from his clipboard. “I am.”

I only just manage to bite back my groan, and I can see Micha doing the same. He probably has to give his report to his mom, but mine’s going to Mrs. Gilbert. If she’s unhappy with my progress, then god only knows what she’ll make me do.

He stands there for another suspended moment, expression indecipherable, before turning on his heel and striding away.

“Am I crazy or did Wilcox just kind of defend me?”

I look at Micha, dryly explaining, “Oh yeah, Heston has this whole thing. It’s like when a cat catches a mouse, and instead of killing it, he just viciously plays with it for hours on end, and the second anyone or anything tries to take it away, the cat gets all possessive and pissy, and won’t let anyone else touch it.” Rolling my eyes, I conclude, “No one’s allowed to bully us but him.”

“What do you think it says,” Micha wonders, holding the envelope up to the light and squinting.

“Probably that we suck,” I answer distractedly, watching the way Heston walks around the pool deck. Those muscles, that swagger, the way his hair falls in his face when he looks down. I could have that right now, I think, completely unbidden. I snap out of it, grousing, “Which is true, but it’s still going to be a total pain.”

Micha is watching me, eyes searching. “I’ve been thinking of recruiting you.”

My eyebrow raises. “For what?”

He puts the bag of chips away, turning to me, legs folded. “I’m currently the mastermind behind a diabolical plot to drive Wilcox insane.”

“Huh?”

“Pranks,” he says, voice low, leaning in close. “Every day, I do something new. Super glue in the door lock, stealing his clothes, soaking his office chair, all kinds of stuff. I’m working on some exponential severity. Today, wet socks. Tomorrow? Who knows? Maybe food coloring in his swim cap. I could use some fresh inspo, though. And who better to get it from than someone who hates him as much as I do?”

I stare at him for a moment before turning, mirroring his pose. I rest my chin on my fists, grinning. “Tell me more.”

Micha smiles deviously.

The glitter bomb should arrive in Heston’s mailbox on Monday. Perfect. I shut my