The Silver Soldier

XIII

The rest of the day goes by quickly, Juliette has been the only student to talk to me so far. Now, we are in Chemistry, with barely 5 minutes left in class.

I never realized how simple the American curriculum is, I learned all of this within my first year on Malgasco. I watch the clock, toning out the teacher's voice. She continues to speak, explaining equilibrium.

I'm to the point of falling asleep.

"Mr. Grant?" I hear my name just as my eyes drift shut.

My head snaps up. "Huh?"

"Would you be so kind as to come up and answer this question for me?" She asks, holding out a piece of chalk. A few kids at the back of the room snicker.

"I'll pass."

"I insist, Mr. Grant."

With a groan, I stand up and make my way to the front of the room. She hands me the chalk, I study the equation on the board. After doing the calculations in my head, I write the answer down and place the chalk on the ledge.

I turn to look at her, about to make a smart remark when the bell rings.

"Remember to do the homework, questions 5-12." She shouts as kids leave the room. I grab my stuff and leave, not giving her a chance to question me.

I am halfway to my locker when I hear someone approaching from behind. Juliette. "Hey." She touches my shoulder, slowing to a walk beside me. "You were practically sleeping that whole class, how did you know how to do that?"

"Equilibrium?" I look down at her. "I learned that last year."

"In Russia?"

I nod. "The curriculum is different."

"It was impressive, no one has put her in her place like that. She's a bit of a bitch."

I scoff. "A bit?" We reach her locker. "I think that's an understatement."

"Oh no, it definitely is." She grins, taking out her bag and stuffing her books inside. "You better start to pack up, you going to miss the bus."

"Bus?" I raise my eyebrows. "Do you take the bus?"

"For now. My car is in the repair shop."

"Do you want a ride?"

She pauses for a moment, looking up at me, then she smiles. "You know what, sure."

"God, that would've been so embarrassing if you said no."

She laughs, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Good thing I didn't."

After grabbing my stuff, we walk out together, talking about the differences between Russia and America. She still doesn't know that I don't have a car. Which might not be good. What if she's scared of motorcycles? What if she decides to walk home instead?

God, Stiles. Shut up.

"Which one's yours?" She asks, scanning the parking lot, her gaze skips over the black motorcycle.

"Guess." I grin.

"That one." She points to a beat up car, the blue paint faded and rusty. It reminds me of Roscoe.

"How did you know?" I act surprised, earning a laugh from her. She seems to understand my sense of humor, and I'm glad. This would be so much harder if she didn't.

"No really," she looks back at me, "which one is it?"

"You like motorcycles?" I ask, glancing at mine. She catches on.

"No way." She stares at it, walking over to where I had parked it. "Is it a Kawasaki ninja?" She lays her hand gently on the seat, as if she doesn't want to damage it. She freezes, staring at the name on the side. "Holy shit. It's a H2R, these things are the fastest model on the market."

I hand her the helmet. "Want to test that out?"

She takes it. "Damn right I do."

I climb on, leaving room for her behind me. I pay no mind to the teenagers staring at us. Let them think what they want to think. I can't stop them. Juliette ties her hair in a ponytail, putting the helmet on. She gets onto the space I had left for her, shifting her hips to get comfortable.

I know exactly what she's trying to do.

I won't let it work.

I turn the engine on, it comes to life, pulling all eyes that hadn't already been on us in our direction. For show, I rev the engine as I drive out of the parking spot, making my way towards the exit. "You're going to have to hold on tighter than that." I say to her before I pull onto the road.

She listens, sliding her arms around my stomach.

I pull out of the parking lot, instantly speeding up. Her grip on my waist tightens, I know it was a reflex, beyond her control, but it makes me smile nevertheless. Two can play at this game.

She said she wanted to test the speed, so that is what I will do.

I pass car after car, the speedometer climbing past the hundreds. Her hold on me tightens more, and she's strong. I would have expected nothing less from a werewolf. "Shit shit shit." She curses as I narrowly miss hitting a truck. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I can't help but go faster. And faster.

Until I realize that I don't know where her house is.

Yes I do.

But she doesn't know that.

I slow down just enough so she can hear me. "Tell me which way to go." I yell back to her.

As we come up to the next road, she taps my right shoulder. I make the turn, entering a subdivision. We make a few more turns, right, left, right, right, left. When we come up to a long stretch of road, I speed up again.

She taps my right shoulder once more as we come up to the next driveway. I slow back down, coming to a stop in front of the house I recognize as hers. She gets off, pulling the helmet off of her head. Her dark hair is messy, she's having a hard time scowling at me.

"What?" I ask innocently, knowing damn well what I did.

"Meanie." She shoves the hemet into my arms, turning away before I can see the smirk on her face.

"You said you wanted to go fast."

She tries again to look mad. She fails. "Not that fast."

Grinning, I put the helmet on, flipping the visor up so she can see my eyes. "How about I make it up to you tomorrow?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's a good thing you have a pretty face, Romeo."

"Is that a yes?" I shout after her as she begins to walk up her driveway.

She doesn't bother to turn back around. "7:30, don't be late."