#18 in TeenFic
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❝Don't,❞ he pleaded softly, offering her a tiny smile, ❝please don't make me a promise you will never be able to keep.❞ He released a quiet but deep breath, leaning forward even more, tilting his body towards her, until thei...
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to nochillno, who I recall mentioningintheForewordchapterthattheywereborn this day, onthe 09th. HappyBirthday, andhere'sandupdate ❤
|Chapter 08|
| good old karma |
NICK felt like he was going to fall asleep any minute now.
Lecturers like Raymond Fawcett shouldn't be allowed to lecture. In fact, they should be banned from it.
He loved Mathematics, and the integration of it with Physics -- Nick did. It made sense to him. It drew him in. But right now, all professor Fawcett was doing was pushing Nick further and further away.
God, he was so boring.
It was a crime to let unenthusiastic people like him teach. If they didn't want to do it, they shouldn't have applied for the job in the first place. For hell's sake, the man walked into the hall and looked at the entire student body like he'd caught every one of them peeing on his front lawn the previous night and was planning to punish them for it
"What are you doing?" the person next to him inquired.
Nick suppressed a groan. He didn't feel like talking right now. Or even few hours from now. Or for the rest of his godforsaken life. But Blondie here couldn't take a fucking hint.
The one thing he hated just as much as an unenthusiastic lecturer, was a chatterbox. Bree was being too annoying with that unstoppable mouth of hers and the only thing on Nick's mind was making her shut up, all politeness and courtesy be damned.
He wondered if Dale and her had those rechargeable batteries run their mouths. Maybe that's why they always seemed to have energy regardless of how much he asked them to stop blabbering.
"What the hell do you mean what am I doing?" he finally asked when she continued to stare at him, expecting a goddamn reply.
"I mean, he just asked us to attempt something," she gestured with her hands towards the books laid out in front of them. "Why aren't you doing it?"
"Because I don't like him."
"Whom?" she frowned.
"The abominable snowman -- geez, woman, who do you think? Fawcett, of course!"
Bree just continued to look at him. No frown, or scowl, or disapproving look on her face. She just looked.
