Faetality |✓|

Chapter Six, Part Two - Home Alone

The bell rang, signaling the end of English and all other Monday classes. Instead of gathering my things right away, I walked to Shelly's seat. I hadn't spoken to her in three years, but I noticed that after Westley's insult, Shelly had been quiet for the remainder of class–an unusual act for a girl so practiced at using her lips.

"Hey, so, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry the So--uh, Mr. O'Sullivan--was mean to you. It was really rude and he shouldn't have said what he did."

Shelly blinked. "He's hot, so I'm gonna justify that it's ok."

"Oh-kay then." So, that wasn't the outcome I expected, but at least I'd confirmed that she was, indeed, a goldfish.

"Tamsyn, why didn't you invite me to your birthday party?"

I temporarily blanked, taken aback by her accusatory stare. "Well, actually, that was a surprise party so I wasn't the one who sent out the invites. And anyway--I saw you there. My sister said hi to you, remember?"

Shelly sniffed and flipped her brown hair from her shoulder. "By the way, I think you're a total bitch for breaking up with Dean. I mean, just because you're pretty doesn't mean you should be ungrateful. I mean, if I was lucky enough to catch a guy like that I'd--"

"Throw it in my face before you cheat on him?"

"Yeah? So?"

Still shaking my head, I walked back to my seat and began to slowly return my book and notes to my backpack. Westley stood behind his desk, sorting through a stack of papers. He looked so normal and "teacher-like", that for a moment it was hard for me to imagine him as anything else but simply "the hot, new teacher".

As soon as the last student disappeared from the classroom, I approached his desk. "What'd you do to Mrs. McDermott?"

He smiled. "From what I've heard, Mrs. McDermott and her husband are enjoying a fine retirement in Curacao. If you find her, feel free to give her a ring."

"Really childish stunt you pulled in the cafeteria, by the way. If you think that's supposed to scare me--"

"Scare you?" he repeated, straightening. "Is that why you think I'm here?"

"Well... yeah. Sort of."

"Then why are you still alive?" he countered. "If I wanted you dead, you tiresome gal, you'd already be in the ground."

"Then why, are you here Westley? And don't tell me you took a job at my high school for the pension. I know you bribed Mrs. McDermott out of a job--there's no way she could afford a retirement in the Caribbean Islands on a teacher's salary. So why is being here important to you?" The way he stared sent a shiver up my spine, and not necessarily in a bad way. I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm here because fifteen years ago I made a promise, and it's one I intend to keep." His voice was low and quiet. "It may be hard for you to see it right now, but I'm trying to protect you--despite the fact that you insist on being a right geebag."

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know what that means. Say I find your stupid box..." I squared my shoulders. "And let's say I give it to you. What are you gonna do with it? Will people get hurt?"

He held my undivided attention; his gaze was steadily fastened on mine. "Give me the box and a few people will die. Don't give me the box and loads of people will die. Your choice."

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