Page 94 of Lightning Angel
She groaned inwardly and forced herself to nod at the teacher’s piercing stare.
Aggravating man. She hated this very subject because of him. Oh, how she couldn’t wait for the bell and go back home. Unfortunately, the class had only begun ten minutes ago.
Mr. Highsmith turned to the board behind him and continued the class. Alexa tried her best to give him herundividedattention. Her eyes darted to the row on her right as she caught Jude casting her concerned glances from two seats ahead. She glared at him to stop it, and turned back to the teacher before he’d catch her distracted again.
Almost fifteen minutes passed.
Mr. Highsmith was reading from the thick textbook on the desk in front of him, explaining each part, hovering over it with his hands bracing the table. When he straightened and turned to the board, Alexa let out a sharp gasp.
From the collective gasps that followed, she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
On the back of Mr. Highsmith’s powder-blue button down was painted,‘Pardon me, I’m a psychopath’in mischievous and colorful letters. It hadn’t been there before, and it looked like a fresh artful display.
And there was only one explanation for it.
Tristan.
Her classmates began to snigger and chuckle behind their hands as Alexa sat in astonishing disbelief, trying to process what had happened.
He was here. He hadbeenhere when Mr. Highsmith admonished her. And now, he was exacting his revenge.
Oh. Goodness.
Suddenly, Alexa couldn’t hold herself in the stupor any longer. She pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle a laugh.
The sound of the entire class’ restrained laughter must’ve fallen on the teacher’s ears. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Is something funny?”
Poor man.Alexa tried not to let her giggles burst at the stern look on his face.
“Sir, there’s—” Jude started, but stopped short, trying and failing to control his amusement. He pointed to the man’s back. “There’s something—on your back.”
Mr. Highsmith’s eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment as he turned around, hiding his back from their view and trying to glance behind him. “What is it?” he stammered, obviously failing to see what the whole class was laughing about. He glanced over at Jude and asked again, his expression puzzled, “What is it?”
Niles, Jude’s best friend, grabbed his phone and approached the teacher, offering to take a picture. He bit his lip hard as he turned the phone to Mr. Highsmith.
Mr. Highsmith’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as he stared at Niles’ phone screen. His cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson and he snapped his gaze to Niles, who withdrew his phone and held up his hands in surrender as he walked backward to his seat.
Alexa tried to keep her expression neutral and her eyes from darting all around the room, searching for a sign of Tristan’s presence to know where he was standing.
“Which of you is responsible for this mischief?” Mr. Highsmith demanded, his face twisting into a grave expression.
“None of us, sir,” Niles choked out, failing to control the twitch of his lips.
Mr. Highsmith glared at him. “None? Are you expecting me to believe there’s someone invisible in this room?” Alexa’s heart gave a jolt. “Namely, a ghost?”
“No, sir, but—”
“You!” Mr. Highsmith’s eyes sapped to Alexa and she stiffened in her seat. But unlike the previous time, she felt strangely brave to face the dragon. Her knight was in the room, to defend her honor and to keep the dragon in line.
“None of us have moved from our seats since you began the class, sir,” Jude cut in before Mr. Highsmith could open his mouth again. He spared Alexa a brief glance. “She has nothing to do with it.”
Mr. Highsmith turned his glaring eyes to Jude, advancing toward him. “You think I’m insane?”
“No, sir, but I’m more willing to believe there’s a ghost in this room.”
More restrained laughs, and even Alexa cracked a tiny smile.
“Or perhaps it wasyou, Mr. White, because you think I embarrassed your girlfriend in front of the whole class—what the—” Mr. Highsmith swore and jumped out of his skin, whirling around.