Don't Tell Him He's In Love With A Genius

:Genius: Chapter Twenty Eight

My head was pounding.

My arm was aching too, but that was no surprise, it was due to fully heal for another twelve days.

I unlocked my phone, stared at it, and put it down. It was a full minute before I realised I didn't actually take in the time or date and had to unlock it again. 8:15am. I groaned, it was way too early for a Sunday. Without taking a breath, I flung myself onto my pillow, my phone jumping across the bed, landing right on the edge and sliding slowly downwards. I forced myself to ignore it and not cringe when when the inevitable thud alerted me to its new position on the floor.

I'd been out of the hospital for a while and Anton and I were definitely dating, much to the fluxuating amusement or disgust of Harred. He was none the worse; Asha and Harred had escaped a week ago and ended up being found in a speed boat on the coastline by Mack four days later. No one asked what they had been up to, but they seemed more loved up than ever. Asha, horrified to have missed so much and to have caused so much disruption, had left her room only for the classes she had chosen. There was now a program running similar to a summer school. Some high achievers and the Gifted Champion's group were staying back for extra training and lessons, but halls were practically empty.

Asha goes to about three a day.

I now have private tutoring with Mr Linen, which was his way of apologising to Lucy and Austin over the whole accident. Neither blamed him, strange as though it was to have a student alone in your car and then end up getting into a car wreck. He was way too much of a charmer to get blamed for anything. And I'm sure his spy past has nothing to do with him avoiding lawful action.

In total, life seemed to get more and more on track for me, and less the highway of hell that it start when my parents first-

"What else can you do?" I looked around, hearing the familiar voice of my boyfriend. My boyfriend, Anton strode to catch up with me, throwing an apple over my head and into my hands. One day I knew I wouldn't catch something he randomly threw at me, at it will lead to a sore head, or more ammunition to mock me with.

"What else can I-"

"Please do not repeat exactly what I said in the form of a response." He cut in, smiling at me devilishly.

I rolled my eyes. "I replaced 'you' for 'I', didn't I?"

"Yes. You did. Three times." A pat on my head. "Good job." His smile was met only by my cold look.

"What?" I bit the apple a little too forcefully as my way of answering, I'll admit, but anything to spite him.

"Right, before the whole pronoun fiasco, I questioned your hidden skill set. Are you a secret agent?"

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you, Anton."

"I'm honestly ashamed of that cliché, Dunce."

"Well, you're the Russian one, you tell me." He let out a frustrated sigh, looked around quickly and glared.

"Stop talking about my place of origin, we're talking about you."

"Yes, but I'm curious why you're so defensive about it."

"And I'm curious as to how you found out about it."

"I like Russia; nice architecture. I know a Russian born when I see one." He looked at me disbelieving, opening the door that I was about to run into before I hit it. I sent him a sheepish look, and he let me slide through before speaking again.

"We're in a school full of geniuses and the girl who's at the bottom of the list figures out my jawline looks slightly Russian." I smiled, tilting his head to the side gently with my fingers, as though I was inspecting it. I paused after a moment, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.