Temptation [A Young Writer's Prize Submission]

All About Lucien

Chapter Thirty

Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

James 4:7

My first lesson of the day was English, as my misfortune would have it. It would have been nice to have some warning when I walked into Mr Theobald's class to find Lucien sitting in the seat I'd already claimed for myself.

For a hopeless moment I wished Mr Theobald could be convinced to switch the seating arrangement, but then I figured that Lucien would still have sat by me even if allocated somewhere else.

"Are you alright?" he asked me. I simply nodded, and was spared from any further conversation when the grey-haired teacher walked to the front of the class, tapped the interactive whiteboard with some anger, and then announced: "If this stupid invention will work today, we're going to be looking at some critical essays for Milton."

The whiteboard didn't want to operate, so instead we spent the next few minutes - until the IT technician managed to get to the classroom - referring to the notes in our books.

Lucien, however, had a different agenda. When I next looked at him, it was because he'd tapped my arm. I glared at him, and he glanced down, directing my gaze to the paper he'd slid between us. Okay, we had officially reverted back to being eleven.

On the first line of the paper, he'd written: I want to talk to you. He had the most interesting handwriting: small, neat and precise, with a slant to the left. A calligrapher would have had a field day analysing that.

Mildly curious, but resisting the temptation to write back, I simply shook my head at him, turning back to the text book.

He wrote on the paper again: Please talk to me.

I took the paper from the desk and scrunched it up in a ball, throwing it in the general direction of the class bin when Mr Theobald wasn't watching. It actually fell in, so I hadn't made a prat of myself, but it was somebody in the front row applauding my success that drew Mr Theobald's attention to what had just happened.

"Miss Falle," he pulled his glasses down over his nose. "Much as your aim might be admirable, throwing paper balls in the classroom is against school policy."

"I'm sorry, sir," I said meekly, glaring daggers at Lucien. I would have continued, to say it wouldn't happen again, but Lucien quickly interceded.

"It was my fault, Mr Theobald," he announced. "It won't happen again."

The teacher grunted, moving on with the rest of the lesson. I spent the next hour trying to ignore Lucien's varying attempts to communicate. Folding my arms and staring straight ahead, I tried to listen to the lecture - which should have been extremely helpful and diverting, had Lucien not been fiddling with his pen, casting me sidelong glances that I should have ignored.

At the end of class, I quickly packed my stuff up and tried to leave my desk. Lucien caught my hand, steering me back into my place.

"What is your problem?" I demanded, glaring at him. It was the first time I'd looked directly into those eyes since we'd almost kissed. I hated myself for not being able to see the shallow prick he was - I was compelled to see past that. Then the guilt stabbed me in the back. My phone weighed heavily in my back pocket - the only connection I had left to Cain.

"I want to know if you're alright," Lucien said smoothly, ignoring the other students, who were staring at him. Once the bell had rung they were out of the classroom like rats from a sinking ship. We were left alone... not a good thing.

"I'm fine," I bit out, turning to leave. The faster I could be out of his company, the happier I would be.

He placed a hand on my arm, blocking me between himself and the wall, with desks either side of us.

"Get your hands off me," I spoke through gritted teeth. My betraying mind played images of the last time I'd been in this situation - when Will had cornered me. Lucien wouldn't do the same, I knew, but the memories were chokingly strong.

My fear must have shown on my face because Lucien took an immediate step back - not far enough to give me an escape route, but enough to make me feel more comfortable.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to..."

I waved away his apology. "Can I go now?"

He fixed me with his eyes. "Not just yet," his lips barely moved, but each note of his captivating voice was clear and strong.

"Mercy..." the determination in his eyes faded. "Did you lie earlier - was it your boyfriend who hurt you?"

It seemed a bit of an odd question, but it was one I was determined to answer.

"No, I didn't lie," I insisted. "Cain never hurt me. Will did it."

"Was it because of Will that you ended up in hospital?" Lucien's voice was soft, like a purr.

"Yes," I insisted, but Lucien didn't look convinced. "I'm not lying," I added.

"You're not telling the whole truth, either," Lucien murmured. "What happened to you, Mercy?"

I gulped. It would be so easy to tell him everything - starting with the two men who'd attacked me, all the way to Cain's gambling habits and what I suspected about Will's death, but I couldn't.

"It's none of your business," I said firmly.

"Mercy," he ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "You need to tell me about this."

"Why?" I demanded. "Why do I need to tell you, of all people, about this?" My expression challengingly blank, I shifted my weight onto my left foot, cocking my head at him. When he, and his silver tongue, could come up with no semblance of an answer, I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Can I go now? I'm already late to my next lesson."

Lucien fixed me with eyes like burning coals, and took one deliberate step towards me, backing me up against the wall. If Cain had done this, it would have intimidated and terrified me. With Lucien, my blood heated and I desperately wanted to feel his body pressed up against mine, consuming me with warmth.

That wasn't a good idea, though, so I tried to stare impassively up at him, even while he crowded me in.

"You're dangerous, Mercy," his voice was barely above a whisper, "and tempting. I feel that if I make one wrong move, I'll lose you."

My heart stuttered in my chest, and then began beating a tattoo into my breastbone.  But I was irked by one thing he'd said: hissing snakes awoke in my stomach - their venom seeped into my voice as I answered: "I'm not yours to lose."

 I broke away from his grip and dashed past him, hurrying to catch up with the rest of the students.

Thankfully, I didn't see him for the rest of the day. Even during dinner, he remained curiously absent. To be honest, the only person who was actually disappointed by his failure to show up was Tasha. Every time the door would open, she stared at it expectantly. Each time brought more disappointment for her, and relief for me.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Tasha asked us, disheartened. Walking out of dinner, there was no sign of Lucien anywhere. I suspected he was out with the new 'flavour of the hour', but I didn't want to suggest it out loud.

"Some of the guys are going to watch a film," I suggested, but Vanessa shook her head.

"There are only so many times you can watch Die Hard before it gets old," she rolled her eyes. "Trust me."

"Doesn't Haithwaite have more than one TV?" I asked.

Tasha shrugged. "Yeah, but that is only really good for the PlayStation."

"There's a pool table in there, though," Vanessa suggested.

"I don't really want to play pool," Tasha sighed. Something told me she'd much rather be hunting Lucien down - and I wasn't game for that.